Dracordia
by LittleMaggie
Summary: Ch.24. ENDING! Draco's 19, supporting his family after Voldemort's fall.Things are bad-Lucius is paralyzed,their money supply is dwindling,and when they apply for a nurse,they get Ginny!Little does Draco expect what'll evolve.The love, angst,pain! D/G (?)
1. The Ghost

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Author: _LittleMaggie_

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Date: _November 7, 2002_

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Summary: _Draco Malfoy is nineteen and supporting his family after the fall of Voldemort. Worst of all is what Draco calls "The Ghost" – and the reason why his life is over. When he decides he needs a nurse to help him, who'll be the nurse that comes in? Very in-character and possibly the jewel of my writing career._

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Note: _Dracordia is a combination of the Latin words Draco, or dragon, and Cordia, or heart._

Chapter One

The Ghost

There was a sudden flash of bright light that illuminated his eyelids to a fragile, misty orange color. Then, the light was gone again, but he was already consciously awake. Draco opened his eyes with a miserable expression on his face, realizing it was time to wake up again. He couldn't comprehend the flash of blinding light at first - the entire mansion was guarded almost entirely from unwanted light. It was darker than a crypt in this home, and the liked it that way. Then, he lifted his pale gray eyes and saw that the window to his room was open and that the breeze was blowing the curtains apart, sending patches of light across his bed. The pattern of light danced upon his bed again, the curtains rustling pleasantly.

At first, he felt soothed by the sight. Then, the reality of it hit him with such a force that he immediately threw all the covers to the floor and scrambled in desperation towards the window. He slammed it shut so loudly that the crash echoed through the eaves in the room. He glanced awkwardly at the doorway, almost expecting to see the fleeting ghostly figure there that haunted his house nowadays. 

Shaking his head, Draco ran out into the hallway, the expensive bitter red Persian rug rushing quickly beneath his feet. He reached the end of the hall and stood before a massive oak door with two paintings on either side of it - two great Malfoy ancestors, their stern faces so similarly structured to his own father and grandfather that the resemblance never failed to amaze him. He pressed his ear to the door and waited to hear a sound inside, and was glad to hear the faint sound of breathing. No coughing as of yet, no wheeze in the exhale. 

The apparition could sleep on. Feeling much less shaken, he headed down for breakfast with a cool scowl on his face, trying to steer his eyes away from the dozens of pairs of pupils, all dilated and watching him from their eternal rest in the portraits. The staircase he descended was a fine one - it was sleek marble and ivory cropping, with each knob on the armrest polished until the reflection could show the faintest freckle on his arm. Though the stairs had gone through some neglect in recent years and have been crowded with an overwhelming amount of spiderwebs, there was still a very expensive and aloof air to it. 

The kitchen was plain, in contrast, with just a simple table setting that consisted of an oak table and four chairs. There was a crisp white tablecloth on it and a vase filled to the tip with crystalline water, but there were no flowers in it. The lack of flowers didn't make much of a difference to the effect - the jar still shined and the spectra it refracted on the table was more colorful than any combination of flowers. Here he made himself a small breakfast, and after a while of consideration started a second breakfast for his mother. It was only a matter of time before Narcissa would descend down the staircase, still clad in an oversized old bathrobe, with her hair up in curlers, and the familiar family sneer on her face. 

Before Draco could even finish the spell that would prepare the oatmeal, Narcissa's shrill voice announced her presence: " Good morning." He nodded in reply, not ready to dapple in on any friendly conversation this morning. He was going to be late for work. 

Instead, he intoned: " My window was open." 

" Well, that was careless." Narcissa said, coldly, slapping her bowl down on the table and finishing the spell herself. 

" I didn't open it." Draco replied. Her high cheekbones were accentuated as she sucked in the air in her cheeks, giving her a very sour expression. 

She didn't reply, and a few minutes of deadweight silence went by before she managed: "Don't be silly. You probably wanted to air out your room, or another harebrained idea." 

Not wanting to argue, he cocked his head to one side and simply shrugged. Finishing the last spoonful of oatmeal, he stood up, kissed her cheek, and announced: " I'm going to work now." Narcissa's eyes cast a weary glance at him before they fell to her oatmeal again. She had been lost in thought and in turn the oatmeal had developed a thick brown shell on the bottom. 

" Ah, have a good day." Her voice was hollow, the line had been spoken day in and day out for so many months now that it had lost meaning. " Goodbye." 

She busied with the oatmeal and Draco left. His job wasn't one of any prestige - in fact, if not for the status Lucius had earned at the Ministry of Magic, Draco would have probably not had a job at all. Not that he didn't have a good opportunity for a job - he was Head Boy once he graduated, and had proven himself academically in the Sixth and Seventh years. 

However, he couldn't have a job of any importance - he needed a job where he'd be able to miss a day or leave in the middle of the day and nobody would notice. He was Paper Sorter, the type that sat in the corner of the room by a card table that held stacks of odds and ends on it, and he'd have to organize the piles of papers and articles accordingly into the inboxes of the other workers. There was Harry Potter's, one of the heads by then, even at nineteen, and receiving enough mail to require a zip code. Next to his was Neville Longbottom, who had a thin little batch of papers. He dealt with affairs of those that had been affected or misplaced because of Voldemort in one way or another. After Voldemort's demise, there were a lot of those, but within 2 years the applications for help at the Ministry thinned to nothing but those that had already received help and just wanted more. 

Draco smiled bitterly, shuffling through a handful of papers and then cramming them into Mailbox 24. He had more talent and intelligence in his little finger than some of these "great workers" had in their entire bodies. Of course, what good did that do, if he had no way to tear himself aside from his work? He needed a job with incredibly flexible shifts and hours, for the shell of a person that remained in their house needed more attention than he ever did in his entire life. Cursing his luck through his teeth daily, Draco Malfoy pressed on, still honorable as ever. If someone would have approached him with a small request, he'd probably not answer until they referred to him as Mister, and even then he'd require an especially nice tone from the person in order to do anything for them. 

There was nothing in the world that could break him anymore. Nothing could ever shock him, or ruin him, now. Now that the Shell and the Ghost and the Apparition had all occurred. 

The return home was a silent one, encased in dozens of thoughts and moods that slipped like water through his fingers. He had ideas, grand ones, about how to still revive the old majesty that the Malfoys held. Of course, his ideas would be laughed at or jeered now - the Malfoys were over with and all that remained was their large estate and the shallowing money supply as reminder. 

Standing in front of the manor, the ragtag suitcase in his hand weighing him down on one side, he wondered if it was all worth it in the end. After everything that had happened to his family, was it worth staying behind with them? He loved his family dearly - but at the same time, he despised them with a passion. His love prevailed, though, and he remained a faithful son. 

A scream echoed out of the house, sending a shiver up his spine. Draco could already guess what must have happened, and his forehead broke out in a feverish sweat as he dropped his suitcase and ran for the door. 

He slammed the door open and then turned to check on his suitcase - it had splayed open, sending papers across the lawn. He bounded up the staircase and to the Apparition's room, where he could hear the screams intensify. Slowly, carefully, he opened it and stepped inside. 

There he lay, on the floor, the shell of a man. His hair was a filmy, thin white, dotted here and there with the old splendid spun gold it had once held. The gray eyes had stilled, grown bleary and afraid. His face was gaunt and elongated, so thin that the eyes seemed sunken into his skull, and the skin was yellowed and revealing all the veins through it. A mesh of wrinkles spanned the face of this ghost, ranging from deep and threatening creases to small and delicate ones. The fiercest ridge appeared between his eyebrows, both so fine and white they were nearly nonexistent.

" Father." Draco said, softly. " What happened?" 

The spirit glanced around, almost lost, his faded white sleeping robe stretched across his withered, useless legs. " No. No, no." He said, quickly, his tongue rolling uselessly in his mouth. 

" Let's get you back into bed." Draco's voice was ever patient. He approached the figure, putting his hands under the body's arms, and then helping it back into bed. The body writhed and squirmed angrily, in a frustration imbedded inside its brain, uncomprehending of its surroundings. 

" No... no..." The whisper grew soft, calmed. Jaunty, frail hands grasped at the sheets of the bed, pulling them taught around its ghostly wisp of a body. " No." Suddenly, the screeching returned: " NO!" A pillow found the hands of the apparition and he threw it across the room. Though the legs lay lifeless, paralyzed forever, the hands still worked on, until the time would come for the entire body to grow still.

" Stop it!" Draco shouted. " Don't you - don't you see what you're doing?" Another pillow was thrown across the room, sending a porcelain vase to the floor, where it shattered apart into a hundred tiny fragments. Draco turned away from the sight, his eyes closed to keep the apparition out of his mind. " Do you need a bath? Is that it?" Draco asked, calmly. The ghost kicked around in the bed, turning, his legs remaining in a rigid position, uncooperative. 

" He's coming... Potter - Potter..." The apparition's thin pale lips flipped apart suddenly and a raspy shriek rang out again. Draco backed out of the room, shaking, and then closed the door. The shrieking continued and then finally stopped, but Draco continued to shiver, the goose bumps rolling freely across his body. 

He couldn't tear his mind away from the vision he saw - the terrible sight. What frightened him most was that, in the broken old body in the room, he saw himself - in the faint traces of the facial features, the bone structure, the straining, smoky eyes. This was what frightened him most. He made his way down the hallway and then sat himself down on his bed, his heart pounding loudly in his ribcage, like a prisoner held captive in a cold, dark chamber.

Propping his head in his hands, he shivered and wept, his mind flashing with painful thoughts. " Guess I'll need a nurse. I can't do this on my own."


	2. The Nurse

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Author: _LittleMaggie_

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Date: _November 7, 2002_

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Summary: _Draco Malfoy is nineteen and supporting his family after the fall of Voldemort. Worst of all is what Draco calls "The Ghost" – and the reason why his life is over. When he decides he needs a nurse to help him, who'll be the nurse that comes in? Very in-character and possibly the jewel of my writing career._

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Note: _A lot more about Lucius's condition is explained here._

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Chapter 2

A Nurse

That very same day, Narcissa went out to the Ministry to apply for an at-home nurse. The crisp fall air stung at her pallid, sunken cheeks, just visible from an untidy bun that spilled her tight mousy brown curls down her shoulders and onto her black shawl. She wore her nice dress, of ghastly gray crushed velvet, and her brown leather gloves. Stepping inside the office of the Ministry, she unwrapped her shawl and shook it free of the leaves that settled on it. The room was abask in a faint golden glow from the lighted candles in the tall golden candleholders that lined the room. 

From the ceiling hung a massive chandelier that reflected a gigantic frail golden orb in the poorly waxed floor. Narcissa cast a dark shadow across the sunny mirage in the ground as she made her way across the room to the front desk. It was buried in papers, and beside it sat dozens of completely plain men, all of them probably over sixty. They dealt with the smaller affairs - setting up appointments and handing out paperwork to people in the waiting room. An ancient man with a mane of silver hair spanning his shoulders glanced up at her and immediately fiddled with his eyeglasses. 

" Blessed be! Mrs. Malfoy." He said, finally, standing himself up and giving her his hand. She stared at the bony appendage he was offering her and then shook it with a disgruntled expression on her face. 

" I'm here on important business." 

" Why, haven't seen you or the young man for ages." The old man's nametag caught the light of the chandelier - Samuel R. So this was the Samuel that Lucius had spoken of, who was his errand runner. Looking at him now, though, would give anyone the impression that Samuel had been the prestigious front-desk man for as many years as the position existed. He had this posh smugness to him that only elderly people could develop after years on a job.

" How is Draco anyhow?"

" Doing just fine." Narcissa replied, then added: " He works here, I figured you'd see him daily? Surely visiting the paper-sorting room isn't below you all of a sudden, Samuel?" She struggled to stifle her bitterness.

" Ah, the sorting room." Samuel murmured, embarrassed. A few co-workers looked up at him with concerned frowns, for they too had been convinced that Samuel had been in possession of the front-desk job for ages. " Yes, yes. What help could I offer you, madam?" 

Narcissa wrung her mouth into a miserable smile. " Draco thinks we could use the help of a nurse."

" A nurse?" Samuel exclaimed. " Why, I waited for you to apply for months now!"

" Have you?" She snapped. " I'll have you know that the Malfoys are holding up quite well without needing some old busybody to hide in our shadows and clean up after us."

" I'm sorry." He stumbled over his words. " I meant no offense. We've had dozens of offers flying in. Lots of young girls feel it to be their patriotic duty to the wizard world, to help out after the downfall of... Voldemort." Everyone still had to pause and take a deep breath before uttering the word, even now.

Narcissa slapped her hand down on the table and jerked an application form towards herself. The action spoke louder than her words could. " I need a reliable girl." She said threateningly. " And a young one! I don't need some old hen! I need a lively girl. Yes, a lively girl..." She murmured, filling the form out.

" Why, most of our girls are excellent young ladies." Samuel explained.

" Isn't that grand for them?" Narcissa spoke hotly. " How are they educated? All through wizarding school, I hope? I need someone with reliable bloodline. I want no Mudbloods gracing the Malfoy premises." 

Samuel reddened. " Madam, you shouldn't worry about that, our ladies are all educated. I'll - ah - just put you on the waiting list..." 

" Don't you dare squeeze me in on a list, for I'll never see the damn girl. I demand that you have one knocking on my door by tonight!" Narcissa hissed. 

" To - tonight, Mrs. Malfoy?" Samuel exclaimed, jiggling his glasses again with such nervousness that for a minute he could have been mistaken for a seizure-ridden hospital patient. " Isn't that just a tad hasty?"

" I'm sure the Ministry is as efficient as it was when Lucius left it?" Narcissa questioned.

" Oh, oh no doubt it is - - well, of course we had serious losses when he departed, but... yes, it is fine... well..." Samuel felt unsure of how to answer best, for he didn't know which answer would be taken as less of an insult by the bitter Narcissa. 

" If it functions correctly then I assume that there are nurses just waiting to depart. If that is so, then I expect to open my door seventeen in the afternoon, on the dot, and find a nurse on the doorstep." Narcissa added to the list of desired qualities, mouthing it to herself: " Punctual. Yes, a truly English virtue." 

" I'll file the report and send it to Mr. Potter, madam." Samuel managed, taking the form from Narcissa and jamming it on the very top of the "Out" pile on his desk. He looked up, but Narcissa was already leaving, her black scarf fluttering behind her in the wind. 

"Good day!" Samuel shouted after her miserably. 

Draco paced the corridor worriedly. The Ghost was shuffling in his room, grumbling angrily through a headache-induced fury. He didn't know what to do, though he knew the nurse should arrive any minute now. Sitting himself down on his bed, he allowed to reminisce in the past. 

The Malfoys had done so grandly! His father had risen to high prestige with Voldemort, and the plan was going excellently. Draco was to take his inductive ceremony at seventeen and become a sworn protector of the Dark Lord. Instead, shortly after Harry Potter started to stick his twiggy nose into the Malfoy business. He had done his fair share of eavesdropping and spying, and as always in the end he managed to come out the hero. Only this time, he had to have his final battle. 

So it was the seventh year, and everyone was taking sides. The school had an invisible line dividing it - Pro- Voldemort and Con-Voldemort. It grew so bad that the school was on the verge of becoming dysfunctional. Harry had come through though, he had the devil's luck. When he ended up finally reaching the man-to-man, last battle with Voldemort, none of the Death Eaters would ever allow their Lord to face Harry and the other leading "good" wizards alone. Lucius had been a truly courageous hero then - he led a rebellion of Death Eaters against Potter and Dumbledore and the others. It had ended horribly for the Dark Side - Voldemort had been completely vanquished by Potter. Something had happened - Potter had reached some sort of magical climax. 

A literally blinding flash erupted from his wand and the Dark Lord was killed instantly. Before Draco could have gathered his wits, Lucius had been hit and paralyzed almost entirely – or so were the reports. The worst effects were on Lucius's mind, though. Even if he could move, his brain would surely not allow him, for he had gone into a stage of such post-traumatic shock that he was unable to function. Lucius had been left a hollow ghost with nothing to live for. He could no longer work, he had lost his esteemed position in society, and the one thing he ever believed in - Voldemort - was gone. 

Hence, Lucius went mad, stark raving mad, and he was no longer himself but The Ghost in the Malfoy manor. Before Draco could begin to drown in his self-pity, the doorbell rang. 

" Open the door!" Narcissa shouted angrily. " That better be the nurse, or I'll..." It had been the nurse, thankfully. 

He ran down the stairs and opened the door and there she stood, a figure huddled in a tan trenchcoat and a bright yellow scarf that tumbled cheerfully all the way to the ground. There were little yellow and white pompoms at the ends of the scarf. The nurse's face was completely shielded other than her chocolate warm eyes, as if they were burning embers that were magically embedded inside her pupils. " Hello." Draco said, uncertainly. "Are you the nurse?" 

The nurse nodded gaily and said, in a voice muffled by her thick scarf: " I'm your nurse, alright." She seemed to brighten the room immediately, a bustle of plump and warmth and energy, like fresh piping-hot pudding. She turned around, shaking off her coat, and a fiery red pigtail stumbled from beneath the dropping collar of her coat. Then, the second pigtail, both to her waist, appeared as she slid her scarf back.

" Let me take your things…" Draco began, then felt his words get cut off as he saw her face.

She wasn't gorgeous, not in as much a startling way as he reacted. Her face was round and cheerful, her nose was slightly upturned and still sprinkled with faint freckles that reminisced of her early childhood, and her red soft hair fell in loosely crimped waves on the sides of her face. The young nurse looked positively aglow, like a blazing piece of iron, heated until it had the unusual, piercing orange color to it. It was the familiarity of the face, like a slightly altered blueprint of an entire family line, that made Draco jump back for a second. His thoughts spun backwards and he could only remember brief instances in the Hogwarts halls where he might have walked by this girl.

" You – you're Ronald Weasley's sister, aren't you?" Draco exclaimed. " Jennifer, isn't it?"

" Ginny." She corrected with a smile. " I'm sorry, you're of this household, right?"

" Yes, yes." He managed, quickly, before continuing: " Why are you here?"

" Did they deliver me to the wrong house?" She exclaimed. " Oh, goodness, if they did…" She stumbled backwards, her hand falling on the doorknob, ready to burst out the door and race down the street in a panic. " I'd be ever so embarrassed if I botched up my first assignment!"

" No, this is the right house." He said. " I just didn't think they'd send a Weasley, of all people."

" Is this entire house prejudiced against Weasleys?" Ginny huffed. She tossed her scarf carelessly into Draco's arms, where it seemed to pale immediately against the grayish, plain splendor of his suit. He was a tall man, well over six feet, but he carried himself as if he were dwarfed, humbled completely. The gay yellow scarf looked terribly out of place in his hands, but thankfully he immediately rolled it into a tight ball and pressed it under his arm.

" I'm sorry, it's just… I don't know if Mother would approve." Draco explained. " She's very picky about who gets to help our family, and…" Draco himself looked slightly put out of taste.

Ginny blinked, and then exclaimed: " Why! You're Draco! I'm so sorry, I thought you were a butler, or something!" She snatched her scarf from his hands immediately and then gasped out, turning red again: " I've really messed up this time, haven't I? Not even two meters into the house, and already in trouble…"

" Butler?" Draco managed.

" You're all in gray, a fancy suit and all, I just…" She paused. " I'm sorry." 

" It's fine, just as long as you don't cross my Mother's path." Draco warned. " She could really take offense to the slightest things." Draco then added: " I'll show you to your room first, get you set up."

Ginny nodded and took out her wand. She waved it around and two tiny bags levitated from her sweater pocket and then settled on the floor like specks of fairy dust, where they immediately began to swell until they were normal size. Ginny picked them up gingerly, for she looked rather sturdy for a girl her age. " Is it upstairs or down?" She asked.

" Upstairs, near the gho—near my father's room." Draco replied, and then put a lone finger to his lips. " Shh, it's best to stay quiet from this point onwards."

The corona of cheer and light that seemed to move along with Ginny seemed to deaden immediately with her fading smile. " My, isn't this place drab?" She whispered softly, as they made their way down the dark hallway and to the staircase.

It was truly beautiful to her, and she paused and exclaimed: " It's like in a palace!"

Draco didn't reply, but he could almost feel his mind absorbing the praise, giving his ego a tiny boost. It was good to have someone still marvel at the extravagance of the Malfoy household. " You don't talk much, right?" Ginny ventured.

He looked at her over his shoulder, and his eerie penetrating eyes, the color of sun-tarnished blue lace, held hers for a long and unbending moment. Then, he replied, shielding his eyes again with his long blonde eyelashes: " I see no need to."

They moved up the staircase in an uncomfortable silence. Ginny seemed to have been expecting Draco to offer to carry her bags, for she made soft grunts as she dragged them up the stairs to remind him that she was holding them. Draco seemed to make no obvious move to help her out, though. Ginny groaned in frustration and then made the rest of the journey up the stairs in silence. Once they were on the second level, she was surprised to see a span of hallways that looked like an intricate, limit-less maze.

" The servant's quarters are to the left." Draco said curtly. " The residents – that is, me and my mom, are to the right. My dad's right in between." He seemed to pause just then, at the awkwardness of referring to The Shell as his dad. It was a nobody, not a father, not a husband, and most certainly not Lucius.

Ginny nodded and then saw the large stone gargoyle, probably made of onyx or dark marble, standing right in the center of the path. It blocked the north wing entirely. She turned - to the south was the staircase, then. Feeling oddly disoriented, she placed her hand on top of the gargoyle. It came alive immediately, at least as alive as an enchanted stone could be. It's large jaws gnashed tightly in the air just where her hand had been seconds ago. Draco grasped her hand, roughly, spinning her around so she was facing him. 

A sudden indescribable fury filled his gray eyes, giving them a spark of passion that hadn't existed there for very long now. He whispered hotly: " Don't touch the gargoyle." 

" What's in the north wing?" She asked. 

" Nothing." He replied. " Just stay out of there." Then, he tapped his knuckles on the statuette and it fell into a stony sleep once more. He released Ginny's wrist from his tight grasp. He had held her so tightly that his fingers left red painful marks in her skin. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater down low to cover the painful blotches and then followed him to her room. 

It was just a few doors down the hall, and they had gone through the trouble of posting a brass knocker on the door, so as to respect her privacy. Draco pushed the door open and they stepped inside. There wasn't really anything bad about the contents of the room on their own, but all together it had a frightfully morbid sense drenching through it and into the two figures standing inside. The bed had been hastily made, the ivory sheets and the fragile lace pillows tossed on carelessly, leaving creases and furrows. A navy blue towel was on top of the night stand, and also a porcelain night lamp. It had a faded yellow shade over it. 

There was also a desk, but it was small and pushed awkwardly into a dark corner of the room, where the light from the single window (right over the bed) didn't quite hit. The desk was a dark cherry wood color, but it had lost any natural polish through it after years of tarnish and wear. A common kitchen stool accompanied it.

" We had a few of our items put in storage." Draco said, coldly. " I apologize for lack of seating." 

" It's alright, I can write in my diary at the kitchen table." Ginny replied cheerily. She pulled the tender white bed covering right off and pushed a rosy pink blanket on instead, which she had managed to yank free from the holds of her suitcase. Draco watched as she wrapped her yellow scarf over the window, so it made some makeshift yellow curtains. The light wafting through the scarf took on a golden color and seemed to give the room a much warmer appeal. He couldn't seem to watch for very long. 

He stepped out into the hall, waiting impatiently. The real reason that they didn't have any proper chairs in the rooms were because their items had been repossessed until the Malfoys could afford to pay for them. Ginny appeared in the doorway again, having removed her sweater, and she was only in a melon-orange sleeveless dress, with a long row of buttons down the front. She looked like a little girl, but it suited her, oddly.

" You can stay up here if you'd like." Draco said, coldly. " Once Mother wakes up, I'll start dinner and come get you."

" Oh." Ginny looked disappointed – she had been hoping to have some time to wander around and get acquainted with the house.

" When my father will… will need assistance, you'll hear it. Believe me." A somewhat humorous expression crossed his face, but before his lips could even curl up in a smile, he immediately scowled again, feigning nonchalance.

" Well, until dinner then." Ginny said, gently.


	3. Dinner

Chapter 3

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Dinner

The sizzle of bacon and fat frying on a pan attracted Ginny to come down the staircase. She hadn't known much about her assignment, other than the fact that she would be a nurse at the Malfoy's home. Her first instinct was to reject the job, but she knew her family could use the money. Mr. Samuel emphasized that they needed a girl like her – lively, joyful – and so she knew it was hard to refuse this offer.

Ginny had heard rumors about the Malfoys. It didn't take a genius to figure out what sort of craft the Malfoys were involved with, but she hadn't expected the family to be shattered to nothing after the downfall of Voldemort. While Ron, Harry, Hermione, and many other wizards emerged as victorious heroes, there were also many families that were completely destroyed. Though the rumors were varying, she had heard that Lucius had gone mad. Then there was the rumor that Draco had tried killing himself and was in a coma in the Malfoy household. It was dispersed by people who could swear they saw him move in and out of the Ministry of Magic daily, whiter in the face than bed sheets.

She tucked her long red braids into a bob, fastening it with a glossy yellow ribbon. Hoping that her dress would meet the favor of Narcissa's eye, Ginny stepped into the kitchen. She had expected to see something grand in there, but it looked very much like the Weasley's kitchen, only everything was much more spaced out in the large room. Standing by the Magic-Stove was Draco, his wand pointed at a skillet filled with bacon. He had an apron on, but it hung loosely on his slim frame.

" Good evening." She managed.

He turned and looked at her. The expression on his face was difficult to decipher. It was something between embarrassment and loneliness. " ' Evening." There was a pause, and he filled it with a warning: " You do know that, starting tomorrow, you'll be expected to prepare the meals?"

Ginny nodded. " I can do that."

Draco didn't have to say anything else. She realized that he didn't seek a conversation. Ginny sat herself down at the table and waited patiently for him to finish. 

" Draco." A dry voice spoke out from the door behind Ginny. She spun around in her seat and saw Narcissa Malfoy, also tall for a woman, her face pulled into an expression that was just on the verge of fractiousness. " This must be the nurse?"

Ginny stood up almost immediately and then attempted to shake Narcissa's hand, but Narcissa didn't even budge from her position in the doorway. " How old are you, dear?" Narcissa asked.

" I'm eighteen, ma'am." Ginny replied.

" You do know you'll be staying here for quite a while, I hope. I most certainly expect you to keep from getting homesick, and fleeting off to your family the moment things go lonely." Narcissa smiled cruelly.

" I… I intend to visit home on weekends." Ginny answered, and added: " Draco told me what to expect—"

" When you're in this household, you will refer to him exclusively as Mr. Malfoy." Narcissa hissed. " Same goes for my husband. If you intend to go by first-name basis on the first day, you are sadly mistaken."

" I'm sorry." She replied helplessly.

Draco was silent, as usual. He turned from the stove, setting the skillet down on the table and promptly pushing the bacon slices onto the three plates waiting readily on the table.

" What's your family line?" Narcissa demanded.

Ginny looked down at her plate uncomfortably. " I… I'm a Weasley, madam."

" Lord, does the Ministry ever file anything correctly?" Narcissa replied, crossly, sitting herself down across the table from Ginny and grasping a piece of bread from the wicker basket on the table.

" I promise, I won't be any trouble." Ginny exclaimed. Harry, who had received Narcissa's report for a nurse, was especially kind enough to pull a few strings so that Ginny could get her job.

Narcissa had not meant to be very allowing with her rules when it came to the freedom of her nurse. She was unwilling to let the girl visit her family over the weekends, but then started weighing it silently in her mind. It wasn't a very large expectation - a small visit to her family every week would be just enough time away from home for both her and Narcissa to be satisfied. Ginny had caught on a bit to what the Malfoy family would expect and immediately conjured up three teacups, which she promptly filled with piping hot water. 

" Do you have tea bags?" She asked. Draco motioned towards the cabinet hanging over the Magic-Stove. Ginny fetched the teabags and busied in preparing the tea.

" Are you in any relationship?" Narcissa persisted. " I won't have any boy loitering my house. We need a hard worker, not a slovenly flirt."

" No, I'm single." Ginny replied, thoughtfully. It seemed as if for the first time, she had begun to consider someone to be her mate, right there at the table. Her cheeks flushed and she added: " I don't think I'll be needing a boyfriend anytime soon." 

" Times are hard. Very unusual of a young lady, to prefer work to a husband." Narcissa replied, her bitterness fading away into a trance-like state of remembrance. " I remember when I was young, my father lost his job for a while. It was so humiliating. I had to actually work for 2 months then - at seventeen! Can you imagine that, Draco?" 

Draco, who had barely spoken a word so far, suddenly glanced up from his tea cup and spoke in a reserved tone: " No mother, I don't think I'd be able to picture you in such a state."

" See, now?" Narcissa stirred her silver spoon through the cup and then took it out, tapping it slightly on the saucer beneath the cup. " A family shouldn't rely financially on a daughter." She gave Ginny a hard look. " No matter how badly they are off."

" Well, I..." Ginny began, but was cut off again by Narcissa's droning voice. 

" And young ladies should bite their tongue when someone older is speaking." Ginny stared at the tea bag floating around in the cup in silence now, feeling her embarrassment swell and multiply until it seemed to be in each of her vital organs and in all her cells, like the beating of a human heart, and it was a terrible feeling. 

" My father got a better job, though. A father isn't doing his job unless he can support his family on his own." Narcissa then added, quickly: " Or at least the oldest son. Isn't that so, Draco?"

" Yes." He replied, in a voice that clearly showed he had not been listening. 

Ginny smiled at this and raised her fork to her mouth, ready to try the bacon. Narcissa tapped her fingernails on the table impatiently though. " How impolite. You haven't even washed your hands."

At this point, Ginny felt absolutely degraded. She stood up and ran to the sink, washing her hands furiously, the humiliation now thundering along with her heart, filling her cheeks with blood. 

" I'm very sorry." She whispered, returning to the table. 

Draco had finished by then and was standing up. " I think I'll retire to my room for the night." He managed, glancing at his mother for her support. Narcissa nodded and Draco kissed her cheek and left the room.

Turning her face to Ginny, her tone of voice went from gentleness to icy fury again: "Now, you! Stand up and get the dishes into some sort of order. I hope that Molly Weasley had the sense to teach you how to clean...?" 

" I can clean." Ginny replied. Her yellow ribbon was growing untangled and her red braids were swinging around her elbows as she stood and then hunched over the table to gather the dirty silverware and dishes. Narcissa watched out of the corner of her eye, while taking up her needlework in her hands. It was as if Ginny was the bane of society and Narcissa was keeping an eye on her to make sure that a piece of silver wouldn't be snatched and hidden into Ginny's pockets. 

Ginny cleaned the dishes quickly and then cast a simple spell that had the dishes stack themselves into the cabinets again. " Good night, then. I'll be going to sleep too." She stated, hoping that Narcissa would smile and nod just as she had for her son. 

" Isn't it a nurse's job to keep company?" Narcissa exclaimed angrily. 

" But you..." 

" My needlework keeps my hands busy, but not my mind." She interjected. " Now, can you sing?"

" Only a few songs." She tucked her red hair behind her ears and then stood. " I can tell stories though." Her face was becoming rosy again, and her cheer gave the room an immediate electric jolt, adding color and life to the dreary gray curtains and the plain countertops and scuffed tiled floor. 

" Amuse me, then." Narcissa commanded. 

So Ginny spent her evening as a court jester for Narcissa, mumbling stories and amusing anecdotes as Narcissa stitched and sewed and worked her needle in and out, in and out of the little cloth in her hands. With each jerky stab, Ginny could almost feel a shudder, as if the needle was going right through her. Narcissa finally said, after a good half-hour: " Enough." 

Narcissa had been smiling the entire time, but now she let her face tighten into a scowl again. " You can go to sleep." 

Ginny bowed her head and then left right away, knowing she had been dismissed. 

The scream must have come around one or two in the morning. Ginny's dreams had floated sweetly in her mind, as if she were still sleeping in her home bed. The room was incredibly drafty, but there was something very cozy about it now, with Ginny's numerous accessories to spice it up. She didn't react at first - the screaming cow in her dream was really more humorous than frightening, but then she realized the scream was coming not from her dream itself but from the outside world. 

Her eyes burst open reluctantly, her first instinct being to check and see if Ron's owl had finally fallen trap to their newest family member - a black cat. Instead, she saw Draco standing in the doorway, his eyes wide. " Get up!" He exclaimed. " I thought you'd be in his room by now." 

She stumbled out of bed, rearranging her nightshirt so that it looked more appropriate in the company of a gentleman. Together they rushed out into the hallway. Draco had been right about one thing for sure - she could most certainly hear whatever it was that needed her attention. 

Stepping into the room, she saw the most grotesque figure she could ever imagine, even in her nightmares. It was Lucius, Draco's father, after two years of grueling illness and immobility. The pale, writhing body in the bed had wrapped the sheets around itself as if it were a mummy. 

Inhuman sounds rose and then fell from it, like an unrehearsed choir all shrieking at once. Ginny grasped the nearest object for support, for she suddenly felt weak, and she found herself grasping at Narcissa. Narcissa's thin pale face was even more angry and even more threatening in the blind darkness, the moonlight just barely highlighting her features.

" You're late." Narcissa warned angrily. " I don't ever want to see you late, when my husband needs you." 

Ginny nodded absently and then turned her face to Draco, hoping that he might offer her some sound advice as to what to do. 

" He's having a seizure, again." Draco explained.

" I can see that! I can HEAR that!" Ginny exclaimed. " What am I supposed to do?" 

" Let's unwrap him from the sheets first." Draco suggested. 

Together, in the darkness, they began to slowly uncurl the shaking form from its position in the bed. The screaming continued, quieting and then rising again even louder. Ginny could now see the face, and it was a face worse than that of a specter back from the dead. For this face was the face of a man who should have very well been dead, but instead lived through agonizing pain for every minute of his life, every single day, for two years now. 

" Oh, Lord." Ginny said through her clenched teeth. " Now... what?" 

Draco's gray eyes were filling with tears. This was the first time anyone had ever seen Lucius ever since the accident. He was nineteen, just nineteen, but already an old man inside, shattered at having to deal with his father's illness each day. " I don't know." He replied, his voice cracking. " I thought you were a nurse." 

Ginny nodded. " I am, I am!" She wiped at her eyes angrily. " I haven't - I have never - this is..." 

" Just do something, quick. I want to sleep." Narcissa said, turning away from the sight and closing the door. 

Working like a slightly unhandy duo, Draco and Ginny unclothed and then bathed the figure. The man had been shrunken and thinned beyond human form. His face and body were contorted and so sickly that it was difficult not to feel repulsed. Afterwards, Ginny sang softly, her voice wavering, as Draco tried to get Lucius to sleep again. 

" Potter! It was Potter!" Lucius finally said, for once making perfect sense. At that point, even in the pitch black, Ginny was able to tell apart the look on Draco's face on the mentioning of Harry - it was a look of such pure malice and hate that it distressed her.


	4. Fireplace

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Author: LittleMaggie

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Date: November 10, 2002

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Title: Fireplace, Chapter 4

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Note: There will be a slight mystery building up soon enough in the story. I had already dropped hints, 2 or 3 of them, but the mystery is going to come out into the open later… much later.

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Chapter Four

Fireplace

" That sounds just awful!" Hermione exclaimed, upon hearing Ginny's story about being the nurse at the Malfoy estate. Hermione and Harry had happened to stop by the Weasley residence. Harry had been dating Hermione for a while now, at least since Seventh Year, though Ginny suspected that Harry and Hermione could have dated in secret even before that. 

" I could barely wait until the next day - until Saturday. I came here right away." Ginny admitted, her hands clasped together in silent despair. " Oh, it was horrible." 

Harry looked a bit saddened, his forest green eyes were transfixed with the flowered pattern of Ginny's current floor-length skirt, which featured crimson, almost brown tulips with yellow and green leaves. The color of the tulips matched Ginny's shirt, and was just a few shades darker than her hair. 

" Lucius did get what was coming to him." Hermione said, finally. " He was on Voldemort's side, and all. It would have been unfair if, after all these years of supporting the Dark Lord, he'd walk away unscathed." 

" He was saying my name." Harry's voice was saturated with grief, almost theatrical. He wasn't as upset by it personally as he worried it might make Ginny or Hermione deem him insensitive. " Draco must really hate me now." 

Ginny shivered. " It wasn't the fact he said your name, but more of the way he said it, as if he had died and was simply a medium through which some sort of - - utterly mad - - demon was talking!" 

Molly Weasley was in the kitchen with them, making a salad the old fashioned way, like Muggles do. She found it almost exhilarating to put so much effort into so small a meal. While she had mostly listened to their conversation, now she was ready to add her own say: " Dear, I think that Harry could get you a different job."

Harry looked doubtful, but did add in: " If anyone applies for a nurse, I'll inform you right away." 

" I don't know... would it be right to walk away? After seeing what I saw?" Ginny asked.

" The Malfoys are damned anyhow. The whole lot of 'em." Arthur Weasley said, all too hotly, and in an effort to show he meant it, he crumpled his paper in what could be only described as brutal tree abuse. 

Hermione took a biscuit from the plate in the center of the table and then waved it at around with her hand while saying: " I doubt you're obligated to help them after one day."

" Something intrigues me, though." Ginny admitted. " For instance, what about that North Wing?"

Fred and George had just arrived home after a busy day in their joke shop, and when they stood in the doorway, both with their freshly sprouted goatees ("Every comic's gotta have 'em", George had explained), and they had only heard the last part of Ginny's words. " North Wing? Is that a new Quidditch team?" Fred wondered aloud. 

" Ginny's just been telling us about her time as a nurse with the Malfoys." Molly told them. " Now, you two empty your pockets right now, before you dare step into the kitchen!" 

" I'm insulted. My own mother - - really! She thinks we're criminals, George!" Fred turned to his brother, his eyebrows raised. 
    
    " I wonder whatever made her suspect us." George replied, pulling out a Two-Ton-Tongue candy out of his pants pocket. 

Fred had by now also forfeited a generous amount of trick candies and was handing them in to Molly. 

" Grown boys like yourselves..." Arthur muttered. " And still living with your parents, to boot." He took a big gulp of his coffee and continued: " You should both get yourselves married to your girlfriends - Angelina and whatnot - and buy some decent housing."

" We're not wanted here..." Fred said miserably, his chin trembling. Then he and George burst into laughter again, and after a few minutes everyone had forgotten about Ginny's sticky situation. 

Ginny hadn't forgotten though. She sat there, quieter than usual, scraping poppy seeds off the bottom of her bun and then counting them once they were all on her plate. Before she reached eighty-three, her hour of time away from the Malfoys had passed and she had to return. Ginny stood and then took some Floo powder and said: " I'll be going, then." 

" Oh, poor dear." Hermione jumped up to her feet and hugger her tightly. " It'll be okay." Hermione's large engagement ring - the one she got from Harry - brushed Ginny's cheek as they embraced. Suddenly Ginny felt sick and nervous. 

" What if I have to see Lucius again tonight? I don't know if I'd even be able to wake up." Ginny's hands were shaking. 

" I hope everything will be fine." Molly called after Ginny, as Ginny poured some Floo Powder into the Weasley's fireplace and then went right through, heading for the Malfoy basement, where their fireplace was.

Ginny looked around herself, taking in the surroundings. She was standing in the basement, where the old abandoned fireplace was. The rooms here were all vacant, and there were darker spots on the walls where the paintings had once hung. There was a thin layer of soot all around the fireplace and for a few meters later on the hardwood floor. Pulling her coat around her even tighter, Ginny walked up the long basement staircase and up onto the main floor. 

" I'm back." She said, loudly enough so that anyone on the first floor would hear.

There came no reply though, just the sounds of the house creaking and setting. She made her way down the hallway, hanging her coat up on the peg by the door and then folding her golden shawl and draping it over her arm. Ginny crept soundlessly towards the kitchen and peeked inside, but there was nobody inside. 

She sighed wearily, wondering if perhaps the Malfoys left her at home with Lucius. As she listened in to the silence in the kitchen, though, she could hear the crackle of fire somewhere. There was also a faint smell of smoke.

Fire!

Ginny threw her shawl onto the table and then raced from the kitchen and through the series of rooms, passing empty bedrooms and dark dining rooms where tables stood in a dark eerie silence. The crackle grew louder, more intense, and the smell was heavier. Her boots skidded and her heel slipped from beneath her.

She fell heavily in the doorway of a small, cozy room that was the first room in the house that wasn't completely dark and miserable. Looking up dizzily, she took in the sights of the room. The walls were all painted a reddish brown, and there was a bark-brown couch and recliner crowding around a fireplace. So then there had been no dangerous fire, it was just a tiny contained flame behind some iron prongs.

" Are you alright?"

A shiver ran down her back and she jumped to her feet. Now that she was standing, she could see the figure slouched inside the recliner (its back was facing her). Draco, in his usual dreary gray business suit and pale blue pinstripe shirt, had turned his head and was looking at her curiously.

" I'm fine." Ginny murmured, smoothing her flower print skirt out. " I'm sorry for startling you, I heard the fire and I thought…"

" It's alright." Draco cut her short. He turned and faced the fire again, a glass of blood red wine in his hand. He tilted the glass towards himself, watching the liquid slosh to one side, and then he tilted it towards the fireplace, and the ripples in it turned golden.

Ginny stood and took in a more careful observation of the room. It was a very far back room, possibly some hidden recreation room that the Malfoys hadn't intended to be seen by anyone other than family in their glory day. There was an old, black grand piano in the far corner of the room, and on top of it a small ashtray. There were dead remains of cigar ash inside it, probably very old. A sprinkling of ash was everywhere in the room though, because of the fireplace. The walls had dulled entirely; from up close they weren't nearly as lively colored as Ginny had first thought. There was a single painting in this room, suspended crookedly over the fireplace, as if someone had added it as a last touch. In it, a very young Narcissa, actually smiling, held a tiny blonde baby. On her left was Lucius, looking very handsome, and slightly lost in thought, like a shady romantic figure in the Witches In Love series that Ginny had adored so much.

Her eyes shifted to Draco again. He looked completely tranquil, sitting there sipping the wine as if he had done this for so long now it had lost any deep meaning to him. He stared into the fireplace, the icy sparks reflecting in his eyes, the fire burning cold and cruel inside him. He looked lost and alone.

Ginny turned and went back to he kitchen, feeling slightly shaken. She wasn't too surprised that Draco hadn't offered to help her up from her fall – he was far above that, but she did think he might have invited her to sit down. She had always thought that rich people did that – command you to sit down and enjoy some wine with them.

Once in the kitchen she whipped up two cups of hot cocoa. She left the room afterwards, taking the musty old brown blanket down from the top of the china cabinet on the way back. Ginny walked into the room and handed Draco the cup of cocoa.

" You should have something warm to drink." Ginny offered.

He nodded absently, setting his wine down and taking the chocolate instead.

" I … I brought a blanket." A motherly instinct washed over Ginny now. She liked the motherly role, she found herself fitting into it well after years of running after her brothers to remind them to wear their sweaters or to button their coats.

Draco took the blanket but didn't wrap it around himself. Instead, he put it beside him on the recliner and used it as an elevated armrest. Ginny sat down on the couch to his right and asked: " Why don't you go out more?"

She watched his face intently for an expression – for any sign of an answer – but there was none. He looked frozen in a sort of melancholy. Perhaps he had too much wine in him already and it was hitting him in the head too hard, but Ginny had always thought that a hefty drink would make someone rowdier, if anything.

" Go out more." Draco repeated, turning to look at her directly for the first time, meeting her eyes. He really had awfully sad eyes, she realized. " Go where?" He asked. " And how long? What if something happens when I'm away?"

" I… I don't know. You just seem so depressed." Ginny replied, feeling her face burn up with embarrassment.

He set the hot cocoa down on the floor beside the recliner and then took his wine again, taking a decisive gulp of it. " I don't need anyone to pity me."

" I'm - - I'm not trying to pity you! I'm being sympathetic! I'm just sorry that…"

Another angry gulp of wine, followed by his outburst: " Yeah, I'm _sorry_! I'm sorry that Potter hadn't killed my father when he had the chance! I'm sorry that my father has to die a thousand times each day and lie in his own vomit and humility!" His voice quivered and his eyes darted to the fire again, the familiar gloss coming over them. He emptied his glass and then stood, yanking the bottle of Chardonnay off the mantle and pouring himself another glassful.

Ginny shivered even though the room had grown explosively hot.

Draco rested his hand on the mantle; his back turned to her, a golden corona outlining his body as he faced the fireplace, his back to her. He said, finally: " I wish you didn't have to see what you saw yesterday. I know it must have been horrible. I - - I should have let you see him before, but…"

" No, please, I can understand." Ginny replied.

He downed the glass without hesitation this time. " I bet we all look like idiots." He whispered, more to himself than to her. " Who knows - - I bet _you_ do - - they're all probably talking about us. The Malfoys, so proud, so high and mighty." He paced towards his recliner and sat down heavily. " I bet we're the laughingstock of the town now."

Ginny didn't know what to reply, she was afraid suddenly, and wanted to leave the room. She didn't know what to expect from a drunk and peeved Draco. 

" I thought I'd apologize, while I'm at it, for my mother." 

" Oh, no, she didn't do anything…"

" She likes to pretend nothing's wrong. She still thinks we've got all the money in the world. She won't…" He tapped the edge of his glass against the coffee table in front of him. " … Face reality." He tapped along to his words, the ring of it echoing in their ears. " She won't just admit defeat."

" Why didn't _you_ get help then? The Ministry was giving out money as revenue for people that were victimized by the fight. You could have gotten help."

" The Malfoys…" He shot back, sharply. " … Don't need help."

The words hung in the air like weights. Ginny didn't understand – a minute ago, Draco had been complaining about his mother not facing reality, but suddenly he was refusing to get help.

He started laughing bitterly. " I bet you think we're all crazy by now, don't you?"

" Well…"

He laughed again, the sound haunting her ears through the entire night afterwards. "Who knows, maybe we are." 


	5. Guilt

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Author: LittleMaggie

Date: November 15, 2002

Note: This chapter steps aside from the plot about Draco and Ginny; it focuses on another key character in Draco's life, and the way they are dealing with Draco's hate and ill fate.

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Chapter 5

Guilt

That night, Draco had woken twice – once to hear Ginny entering his father's room to tend to Lucius, and the second time it was just some random sound, like footsteps ringing up and down the hallway. He tried to hide his suspicion by assuming that it was Ginny again. And yet, that morning, when he woke up again, his window was open. He was afraid to leave his window open – it would let in a chilly draft, and even a slight chill could kill Lucius, according to Narcissa. They had all been commanded to keep the curtains drawn tight and the windows all shut closed. He did notice Ginny airing out her room regularly, and her window was always open and there was always a very warm and sweet glow around her room. And yet, Ginny kept her door closed most of the time, so it was no problem.

He stood up, stretching, and realized just how much his head hurt. He tried to calculate how many glasses of wine he had, and realized it was four – two more than the last time he was drunk. His stomach buzzed in protest as he thought of skipping breakfast. He knew he'd probably get sick anyway, but breakfast would have to be eaten or else he'd be followed around by a grumble in his abdomen.

He closed his window, trying to figure out what unearthly forces kept opening it. There was something strange about their house, and about the North Wing especially. It had been shut down for very long now, but recently there had been signs that someone was visiting it, or else something. Narcissa had been the one to decide no one should go in there, and she was the strictest enforcer of the law, so he ruled her out. Ginny was too much of a goody-two-shoes to do it, and he knew better than anyone else that he didn't do it. Lucius was incapable of it. So what other inhabitant happened to be in their house? Was there a real ghost as well as the one inside Lucius?

Draco frowned and then shrugged off his pajamas. He slipped into another of his gray suits – he had seven of them, one for each day of the week – and then he made his way down the hallway. It was still early, so when he went to check on Ginny, he saw that she was still sleeping. She looked incredibly pure, and entirely sunny, even in her sleep. Her long red hair was loose and wrapping around her, her slightly rounded body and rosy skin giving her a childish appeal.

" Don't strain your eyes."

He spun around and saw that Narcissa had woken up as well. She stared at him hardly. "Get to work."

He shrugged. " I will." Moving down the hallway, floating down the stairs, feeling like a ghost himself, Draco breezed through the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the wicker basket on the table. He stared at it, trying to figure out how much he wanted it versus how much he'd rather not throw up.

He took it with him to the bathroom, where he sat down on the floor beside the toilet and rested his head on the tiled wall. He bit into the apple and felt it fall into his stomach. Immediately, revulsion seemed to pass through him. He forced the rest of the apple down and then bent over the toilet, watching the wine and the apple all return into the porcelain bowl. 

His throat burned and his eyes watered. " God…" He whispered to himself. " Oh, God." Standing up, still feeling nauseous, Draco glanced in the mirror. He looked worn and tired, lean in an attractive way, his hair slightly curling at the ends and falling in blond waves on his forehead and twisting around his ears. He took a deep breath, washed his hands, and left for work. He tried not to think about the fact that he'd been drinking more and more often now.

" You're late." Harry said, matter-of-factly, looking at Draco in a piteous way.

Draco stared hardly at him, trying to appear uncaring. " I'm sorry. Just ten minutes… sir." He could feel his stomach flopping around inside of him. He wished he hadn't come to work at all now.

" I can understand how you need to leave work so often. We've heard about your home situation." Harry said, finally. " But… we've been getting unusually large amounts of complaints. You aren't paying attention to your work. Papers are sorted into the wrong mailboxes. Sometimes letters are _thrown out_…"

Draco looked at Harry Potter's desk. It was a good example of immaculate cleanliness in the work office. There was an inbox on one side, with absolutely nothing in it, and an outbox, that was filled to the top with perfectly well-done assignments. He had a desk calendar on which he wrote all his work, and there was an assortment of colored markers, pens, and pencils in a cute little tray to one side, on top of some clean pieces of paper. Then, dead center and up front, was the gold name tag – **Harry Potter**. Harry was huge in the Ministry, possibly one of the most powerful and influential members. Draco figured he was just a lucky bastard.

" … furthermore, your attendance history is pretty flimsy, and your excuses range from comical – like teasingly saying you had to get your beauty sleep – to just rude, like commenting to our, ah, heroic-sized secretary that it took you an hour just to walk around her behind."

Draco smiled. " The truth hurts."

" I'm afraid the truth does hurt." Harry looked sternly at him. " Malfoy, _why_? Don't you value your job? Why don't you ever ask for more shifts, if you need it? Why don't you ask to be promoted? You obviously don't care for your job."

Draco didn't want to hear this speech, especially not from Potter, on a Sunday. Very few Ministry members had to work Sundays. Harry was super-efficient and a workaholic, so he did Sundays without a sweat. Draco just had the most inconvenient job available.

" This is hard for me to say, but… if you don't start pulling your act together at least a bit, we might have to demote you."

" Demote me?" Draco burst out. " Is a worse job _possible_? What is it – the stand knee deep in shit job?"

" Listen." Harry said, finally. " I don't want to do this. I know you've gone through a lot…"

" Don't give me that bullshit." Draco said, angrily. 

Harry shook his head. " Do you think everyone just wants to attack you? There are people who want to _help_ you…"

" You? Help me?" Draco spat. " The last person I'd ever allow to help me is you."

Harry reddened. He was looking more and more upset, and he was growing fidgety and guilty. Draco knew Harry wouldn't lay him off, because the guilt that weighed Harry's conscience was too much.

" Just go." Harry sighed.

Draco left, and once out in the hallway, ran into the bathroom again, where he stayed for a good hour, trying to keep himself under control from the waves of murderous hate and venomous pain that filled him. He would never accept help from Harry Potter. He would rather kill himself.

Harry hung his coat up in the closet of his home and then sent Hermione an owl to ask her for dinner that evening. It came back within an hour with the answer – she would be right over. He dressed and then started preparing a dinner for them both out of odds and ends he could find around their house. He set up two candles in the center of the table and then two glasses for champagne – it was their third anniversary as an official, in-public couple. He hoped that she'd be surprised to see he hadn't forgotten. In fact, he had highlighted the day on his desk calendar and had been counting down to it for ages.

His hair slightly unruly as always, Harry finally sat down in front of a plate of hot steak, deliciously crisp salad, and piping hot baked potatoes. The minutes slipped by before he heard the knock at his door. " Harry!" Hermione exclaimed cheerfully. " I'm here."

Harry jumped to his feet and then opened the door. Hermione had apparated to come see him. She looked amazing – her dark hair, which she had cut short over the summer, rubbed against her cheeks and gathered at the nape of her neck. " You're all dressed up." She teased, even though she was wearing a slinky black evening gown herself.

He kissed her lightly on the lips, crowding her as he led her inside. Covering her eyes, he led her backwards to the candlelight dinner he set up. Releasing his hand from over her eyes, Harry revealed the table to her and she gasped. " Oh… you remembered!"

" If I'd have forgotten, I'd probably be dismembered tomorrow…" Harry laughed, and then led her closer. " Happy Third Anniversary, Hermione."

" Mmm!" She closed her eyes, looking absolutely delighted. " It's so different from last year, isn't it? Last year you took me to that fancy restaurant, and we had a very public fun time… but then those nasty tabloid reporters sometimes watch you wherever you go…" 

Harry sat down and so did she, and they began their dinner. 

" Oh, wow, where'd you buy this steak?" Hermione crooned, staring at it. It was a very nice cut, barely any fat on the side. " It's quite nice, isn't it?"

" That new deli, it opened just a few steps away from the Weasley Twin's Joke Shop." Harry replied. " Wasn't too expensive, either." They stared at each other from across the table for a second and then Hermione blushed.

She looked down, pulling up the dropping V-neck of her dress, trying to adjust it slightly. "Isn't this dress just ridiculous?" She laughed. " I was hoping at least you'd be dressed up, and you were - - otherwise I'd feel so silly!"

" It's very nice." Harry grinned.

Her dress had a pretty saucy dropping neckline, which was paired with open-toe, thin-strap shoes that had black glitter dusted on them, and then there were the two dark gems in her ears. It had been a birthday gift from her mother a while back, and Hermione was almost inseparable from her favorite black earrings now.

They were nearing the end of their dinner when suddenly Harry said: " I've been meaning to find time to talk to you about something very serious though…"

" Oh?" Hermione could feel the buoyant atmosphere suddenly and unexplainably deflate. " What happened?"

" I don't really know what to do. I've been getting a lot of trouble from Draco lately."

Hermione took a deep breath before answering: " Harry, you shouldn't let it bring you down. Draco's just a bit off his rocker anyway, everyone knows that."

" I hope it doesn't rub off on Ginny in any way." Harry looked upset now. " I wish I could take back the job I gave her sometimes, I guess I was just so caught up in my work, process and file, process and file… I should have never let Ginny take it on."

" She's the most cheerful person I know." Hermione replied soothingly. " If anyone can bring light to the Malfoys, it's her."

" Maybe so." Harry stirred his fork through his salad. " Oh, I feel as if he wants me to live my entire life in a shameful guilt!"

" Harry, you did nothing worse than saving your cause. If not for you - - who knows, Voldemort would still be around." Hermione pointed out.

" I know, but…"

" Listen." Hermione cupped his hands in hers, holding them warmly. " I think Malfoy is slightly neurotic in a lot of ways. I don't know him very well, but I can tell there's a lot going on inside of him, and it's best not to take his outbursts personally."

" He's disgustingly proud." Harry said, crossly.

" It's difficult _not_ to, for Heaven's sakes, he made me feel as if I'm… I'm some sort of demon." Harry looked downcast. " I can't stop thinking about what happened…"

" Please, don't go back to that." Hermione warned. Then, she kissed his fingers playfully. " Let's enjoy our date, okay?"

Harry nodded and they finished their dinner quickly and soon they were sitting together on the couch, Harry's lips trailing down her neck, lightly kissing her collarbones. " Oh, Hermione…" He whispered, looking up into her eyes.

She smiled, pressing her cheek to his, and said into his ear: " Just two more months, Harry."

He felt her look down at her fingers, where he knew her engagement ring was. It wasn't anything fancy – it was a plain gold band with a small stone in front. The stone itself was more sentimental-valued than expensive, it had a rock they had both found on the beach together. The rock itself was washed smooth and a faint blue tint. The chilly England beach was a romantic getaway, and after an evening of sitting together by a fireplace, they had decided to polish the stone into a gem and use it for an engagement ring.

Harry watched the pale bluish-gray stone glitter as Hermione turned her hand towards him. That glitter – it reminded him of the malevolence in Draco's eyes when he had spoken to him. " I wish there was something I could _do_." Harry whispered frantically.

Hermione blinked and for an instant, she seemed to have no idea what her beloved was talking about. Then, she exclaimed: " That old rubbish? Oh, Harry, you can't be serious!" She purred merrily and cuddled her face to the side of his neck, whispering: " Kiss me…"

He stroked her hair absently and then continued: " You should have seen the way he _glared_ at me, if looks could kill…"

" Harry." Her voice was harsh.

Harry looked up and kissed the tip of her nose. " What is it?"

" If it bothers you so much, then call a meeting in the Ministry. Talk to Draco yourself. I don't know." She smiled mischievously. " Meanwhile, we have all evening to ourselves, don't we? Let's not bring work home tonight."


	6. Ready to Fix Things

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Author: LittleMaggie

Date: November 17, 2002

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Chapter Six

Ready To Fix Things

The window-rattling shrieking rang through her ears half past four in the morning. It was the fourth day at the Malfoy's residence, and she rarely saw Narcissa, and meanwhile Draco seemed to walk by her like a hollow vessel, barely managing a greeting. She clambered out of her bed, feeling stark-naked in the bitter cold despite her thick woolen nightgown. She yanked her hair back in a ponytail, for she had the unfortunate experience of trying to pry her hair out from beneath a spastic body the night before. Ginny turned and saw that a dark figure was suspended in her doorway.

Her first instinct was to scream, then she noticed that it was the willowy form of Narcissa. Narcissa breathed out: " My husband…"

" I know." Ginny replied, feeling harried, and then moved past Narcissa. Narcissa's eyes were closed in what had to be a muted anger, according to Ginny's perceptions of it.

" Mmm." Narcissa murmured darkly.

" I'm sorry." Ginny added, hopelessly, already rushing down the hallway with her head bowed down in embarrassment. She pushed open the door to Lucius's room and saw him, twisted in the bed spread again, his eyes scanning the room wildly as if it were the first time he saw it.

She looked around as well and then stared in horror – all the windows in the room were wide open and the curtains waved about angrily. Lucius, meanwhile, was coughing as if overtaken by a fit. " Oh!" She gasped and began to slam the windows shut. The raucous this caused sent all the roosting pigeons and owls in the eaves of the rooftop to rip themselves awake and flutter into the night sky.

Lucius kept shrieking, as if he were a banshee, his eyes rolling up into his head so only the yellowed white of his eye was visible. " Shh!" Ginny whispered frantically, pushing the bedspread back. " What on Earth is going on in this house?" She cried out at Lucius in frustration. His chapped lips parted and he seemed to grow silent, his eyes focusing on her.

" Potter - - doesn't deserve to live." Lucius stammered, as if some random neuron fired in his brain, sending the forgotten message to his useless tongue. " Potter…" His eyes grew milky and he fell silent.

Ginny trembled as she helped change Lucius into new bedclothes. Afterwards, she sat by his bed and told stories, seeing that her voice soothed the frayed nerves that existed both in her and in Lucius. She told some silly tale about a greedy Cornish pixie, and then one about a kind werewolf that taught children despite his secret disabilities. When she finished, she added, in afterthought: " Poor Lupin… he did come back in the Seventh Year to our class." She felt so caught up in her tale, she was truly spitting it out now. " Ah, how excited we all were. Especially Ha…" She hesitated. " Well, all of us."

" Really? Everyone?" A masculine voice replied.

The response snapped Ginny back to her senses. She stared at Lucius, but he remained in a lulled silence. She turned and there he was, Draco, standing in the doorway like a romantic figure from one of her novels. Once again, his stance and his appearance reminded her of those books – it seemed almost cliché, with his pajama shirt's buttons opened revealing his eloquent collar bones, his smoldering eyes shining in the darkness. Of course, then again, he was paled and on the thin side, something a romantic figure shouldn't be. He also had a very fragmented personality, which mostly came across in a pout or a sulk. When he approached closer he also appeared to be horribly confused.

" Were you airing the room out?" He continued.

" No." Ginny replied. " It's the strangest thing. I came in here to tend to Mr. Malfoy, and then all the windows were wide open."

" Are you sure it wasn't you?" Draco asked, nervously.

" What are you accusing me of?" She snapped. Then, she added humbly: " I do my best to follow the rules that Mrs. Malfoy laid down."

" Has it happened before?"

" Not that I know of."

" Ah…"

" Has it happened to you?"

Draco shook his head quickly, almost too quickly. " No, it hasn't. That's why it's so, ah, so unusual."

Ginny looked back at Lucius. Could he really not be paralyzed as they thought? Perhaps he was even feigning his entire illness. Then again, that seemed highly improbable. Lucius had nothing to gain by being the great martyr. It just brought pity and humility on the Malfoy family, both from others and from themselves.

The subject quickly drifted to a new topic, by Draco's prompting statement: " You're quite the story teller, aren't you?"

" I try."

" That story about Lupin – I sort of did feel bad for him." Draco quickly made a hard face. " I was also happy, too, to see Potter miserable because of it."

Ginny sighed. " Isn't it time to forgive things?"

He didn't reply, simply paced to the window. His body glowed in a tranquil bluish light as he looked out at the sudden mist of rain that began to come down from the cloud-strewn sky.

Ginny continued: " Some things won't change, but it can get better if you get over them."

Draco put his hands down on the parapet, his forehead resting against the pane of glass in front of his face. She saw the trail of a tear glowing on his cheek in the poor light, and said nothing else other than goodnight. Draco nodded in reply. He didn't want her to see him in a bout of self-loathing and pity, not her nor anyone else had to know how he felt.

Narcissa waited impatiently as Ginny finished up lunch. It was a plain little meal, mostly of sweet buns and hot tea. The rain hadn't ceased all morning, and now it was pounding so angrily against the roof that the sound rang in their ears. Ginny had noticed that the roof over her room was leaking, and she had set down her pink wicker trashcan (lined with a plastic bag) under the leak, but it was a very poor attempt to stop the leak. She waited a while, until they were all settled around the table, before putting down her request. "I've been thinking. If I could look through the library for a book on patching roofs, because…"

" Absolutely unnecessary." Narcissa cut in harshly. " My husband's grandfathers put the roof of this house together, back when the wizarding world was going through the Depression. Draco, dear, you tell her." 

Draco had been stirring his tea thoughtfully the entire time. The Ministry was closed for the day, due to renovations of the main hall. He'd spent the day creeping back and forth to the kitchen to drink some sort of liquor. Nothing heavy-hitting though, because he simply looked miserable, but not drunk. Then again, there was a whole new meaning to drunk when it came to Draco. He simply reached the lowest point in the pit of depression.

The silence was split apart by a crack of thunder outside. This gave Malfoy the boost to say: " I suppose some patching from the inside would do. I wouldn't go as far as to alter the roof itself."

Ginny dared on: " It's an old roof. You can't tell me it's been in prime condition for so long now."

" It is -- was -- Lucius's job to patch the roof." Narcissa said, venomously. " I think that just a bit of interior sealing would do."

Ginny's red head bobbed up and down in silent agreement. She reached out and took another sweet roll for herself and then she dunked it into her drink. " I've also been meaning to bring something else up, now that I'm at it."

Draco became alert right away. His fingers stilled, after tapping a secret code out on the table for a few minutes now.

" What would that be?" Narcissa asked, taking a big gulp of her tea.

" The windows on the second floor, mainly. I find them open at the most random times. I have no idea what's causing it." Ginny said. " I'm hoping it's nothing serious, maybe just a silly hex."

" Don't be silly." Narcissa exclaimed. " You probably open them yourself and then forget. What with your hare-brained air-out-the-rooms idea."

Ginny bit her lower lip. " I'm sorry. I'll have to be more careful then." She didn't mean it, though, Draco could tell by her expression. He could bet that she'd try to get to the bottom of the mystery, no matter what.

Ginny, meanwhile, was beginning to get suspicious about Draco. He was neurotic, and possibly even crazy. He could very well be waking up in the night and running around in a frenzy, snapping windows open. Anything could be possible, nowadays, with the Malfoys.

It was much later, nearing eight in the evening, and Ginny sat alone in the kitchen, reading a letter she had just gotten from Lavender Brown. Lavender had become her confidante later on in Hogwarts. It was an unusual friendship, but then there was one thing that bound Ginny and her together – they had both lost a pet. Lavender had her Binky, a rabbit, which a fox had killed, and Ginny had in her childhood lost a rabbit as well. After getting into a conversation together, they saw how different and yet oddly alike they were.

The letter was unusual and filled with questions:

__

Dear Ginny,

Hello, it's Lavender here. I bet you can tell by my owl – it's so pretty, isn't it? I named her Trelawney, I still insist she was the coolest professor. So her name's Trelly. That's because the engraver at the pet tag shop could only go up to 6 letters a line. He, he!

It's very dull with my life so let's skip to yours. I hear you're living with Draco! That's so gross! Tell me, does he pick his nose or maybe he has some other disgusting habits? I mean, he picked on everyone so much you'd assume there must be something unforgivably wrong with him, and he only teased so as not to feel inferior in his own mind. Trelawney taught me about that sort of stuff. She says it's a form of defense mechanism.

Do you like the smell of this paper? I bought a new perfume, Parvati says it reeks like all hell but I think it's pleasant.

Ginny took a whiff of the paper and recoiled. It not only gave off a powerful peach smell, it also seemed laced with the pungent scent of fresh ink. Lavender had used scented ink ever since the sixth year, something Snape had teased her about all the way up to her graduation, where he told the audience that Dumbledore should have printed hers out with scented inks.

_How is Malfoy like, anyway? Is his whole family screwed up? Everyone says there's something wrong with them nowadays, since they were like the greatest Voldemort supporters ever. I like my job here at Hogwarts, I'm apprentice to Trelawney now! I used to be an assistant! Can you believe it? I'm so excited!_

Seamus is a really nice boyfriend, sort of annoying sometimes. He has this thing he does with his socks, the way he leaves them all over the place, that really bothers me. Maybe Draco does that, right? He probably has the smelliest, most vicious socks ever, and they have little ducks on them. I'm laughing so hard just thinking about it!

Ginny rolled her eyes and read through a page long analysis about a party Lavender attended, where she helped read fortunes from tealeaves for the guests. At the very end was Lavender's signature, in her perfect curlicue handwriting. Ginny tucked the letter into the envelope and then stroked Trelly the owl. " I'm gonna write back tomorrow, alright?" She whispered to the owl. " You can go back."

Trelly hooted and flew out the window. Ginny sat back in her chair, listening to the wooden slats in it settle and creak. All the windows in the kitchen was open since Ginny had burned the dinner pretty badly, despite her best attempts. The ribs were still all right, though, and in fact tasted better with the well-cooked flavor. Narcissa had scolded her despite everything.

Shortly after, another owl flew in, this one extremely chubby and with a disoriented look in its eye. It stopped on the table and stared at Ginny before opening its beak and letting a coal-smudged letter fall down onto the desk. She flipped the envelope over – Draco Malfoy, it read.

Ginny stood and went up the staircase to deliver the letter. Draco's door was closed tight and she hesitated before knocking. There came no reply, so she slowly opened the door and looked inside.

This was her first glimpse of his room, because his door had always been shut tight ever since her arrival. The walls were all a gray, dreary white, and all wallpapered with a cheesy lacy pattern that mimicked the Victorian era. There was a tall lamp on a silver stand in the corner of the room and it had an off white shade over it. There was also a four-poster bed, with wood the color of birch bark forming the posts. The covers surprised her – a royal purple-colored bed sheet lining the thick white throw over it. The pillows were white with sleet gray vertical stripes.

At the desk facing the window was Draco, his back straight, completely enveloped in his work. She saw that he was writing very fervently, but she walked up boldly to the desk anyway, announcing her presence by saying: " I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I have a letter."

He looked up, impatiently. " Let's see it." He demanded.

Ginny placed the envelope down in front of him.

" Ah, Crabbe and Goyle." Draco exclaimed, flipping it over and opening it. He pulled out the letter, then bent it in half. " Must you watch?" There was a cruel arrogance filling his voice. "I suppose you wouldn't have some sort of work to busy yourself with?"

Ginny blushed. " Mrs. Malfoy didn't give me anything specific to do."

" Then I will do so now." Draco stood, pushing the chair back. " Come with me."

Ginny followed him down the hallway. They were passing the center hall, where the huge statue of a gargoyle stood, and Draco stopped and turned into the North Wing. "Wait here." He told her.

She watched him. He was moving towards the North Wing. At the end of the hallway was a door, and it was ajar. Draco pulled the door open and Ginny caught a glimpse of a series of bookshelves, crammed with books, before the door was closed again.

Draco remained in the room for a few minutes, then he came out holding a book. " Did you open the door to here?" He demanded angrily.

" No."

" Someone was in here." Draco looked positively livid. " A few times, actually, in recent days. I'm noticing it more and more. Are you sure…?"

" I'm telling you, I didn't go in there!" Ginny shouted at him. " You should really control yourself before jumping to conclusions! Maybe it was your mother!"

" My mother wouldn't go in there. She's the one that closed the wing down in the first place." Draco said, and then brushed by her, leading the way again. " I'm warning you, I have no way to prove it now, but if I do catch you in there, you'll be sorry."

Ginny shivered nervously. " So what's the book for?"

" You wanted to patch up the roof, didn't you?" Draco turned to look at her. All traces of his anger had washed away to nonchalance once again.

" Oh." She nodded.

Draco handed the book to her and patted her shoulder. He then took his hand and rubbed it off on his pants when Ginny wasn't looking. Ginny meanwhile had flipped the book open and found the correct spell. " I'll be doing it… alone?" 

" Yes." He replied. " Good night." He had by now ushered her into her room. Ginny watched as he closed the door to her room and paced back down the hallway. She returned her gaze to the book in her hands and sighed. The spell would take her forever to complete, it required a half-hour long incantation. Somehow, she had been hoping to work on the roof with Draco, assuming that it was more of a man's job.

Ginny didn't allow her spirits to dampen, though, because a moment later she was already beginning the spell. She needed neither Draco's help, nor Narcissa's, and she wouldn't allow either of them to bring her down.


	7. Sorry

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Author: LittleMaggie

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Date: November 19, 2002

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Note: I have always seen Draco as having an extraordinary gift that was extra-curricular to Hogwarts. Here I explore it, still managing to keep that aloof Malfoy air to his work.

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Chapter Seven

With the roof finally patched up to perfection and with no incidents from Lucius over the night, Ginny couldn't help but wake up with a smile on her face. She sat up and then stretched luxuriously and felt her feet hit a puddle of water as she set them down. Her eyes jerked down to the floor, which was spattered with rain. She glanced up at her desk – pools of rainwater gathered all over it as well.

" Oh man!" The window was wide open and the scarf-curtain was billowing into the room and brushing over the water on the desk, the cheery yellow growing darker and darker as it saturated with water.

Ginny whisked her scarf off the window and then slammed it shut. She changed rapidly into a fresh, new outfit and then spun her hair into two braids as she rushed down the hall, opening doors and checking to see if other rooms had their windows opened as well.

She was reaching the end of the hallway, and so far there were no windows that matched hers. Finally, she reached Draco's room, a few doors away from Narcissa's. Ginny hesitated and then slowly opened it. The room was dark and the window was also open, but since Draco's window faced the other side of the house, there was no rain on his desk. Instead, his papers had scattered all over the floor over the night.

Ginny debated whether to keep a respect to Draco's privacy, or to clean up his papers and never let him know. Curiosity won her over, though, and she knelt down and began to arrange the papers into a pile. She couldn't believe her eyes – Draco hadn't been writing after all, he had been sketching! It was a fine drawing of her, in fact. She was lying in bed, her hair curling around her body, and she had the warm and comfortable glow of a dozing kitten around her. He had only colored one thing, and that was her hair – a fiery mess, spilling in a wild mane of flames down her arms, giving it a hotter and more passionate appearance than Ginny had ever thought existed in it. The reds blended with shadowy dark browns, and then rippled in grain gold swirls.

Her eyes trailed to the bottom of the paper, where in the corner it was signed **Female Study 042. **A sudden disappointment filled her stomach, because she had hoped to be the only girl he had ever drawn, but instead she was the forty-second one. He had done it before, and on other girls. Yet, it felt flattering to know that he had paid that much attention to her.

She moved on to the next picture. There were a series of rough sketches of Crabbe and Goyle, all signed with very early dates, back when they were all students in Hogwarts. He had written comments to himself on them, such as "Goyle looks like he's projectile vomiting here, fix facial expression" and "Too much acne on Crabbe to fill in now. Fill in later".

A smile was moving across her lips, tugging her cheeks up. Soon she was grinning widely. His drawings were all made in an observant fashion. Ginny would have never guessed that Draco could have such an intuition to detail, and to express emotions through the visual arts. Her hands traced the hard dark lines that formed the drawings, imagining Draco's determined face as he had drawn them. 

After the series of portraits of his two closest friends, there was one of Blaise Zabini, engrossed in a book, a half-finished outline for a drawing of the Slytherin serpent. Afterwards there were a few very well done drawings of the Slytherin insignia, all drawn with such tenderness that they conveyed his love and respect for the house. There was another series of drawings of Pansy. The last few were of her in color, but Draco didn't seem to draw her in an attractive light. Her eyes were vacuous, empty of any thought other than what color of lipstick she should wear next. He had dulled the lines around her eyes, giving her a weary expression, like that of a snake ready to strike back. Her chin and lower lip were protruding, just short of a Neanderthal-like scowl.

Ginny read the comments on these, too: " Pansy will get wrinkles soon if she doesn't stop scowling" and "if she won't stop winking at me I'll draw her with a facial tick".

Afterwards, the drawings took a bit of a nasty turn. There was a mean caricature of Harry, with the glasses drawn so that his eyes were owl-like and huge, and also drawn so they looked as if they were just watery goo, waiting to bawl so others would feel bad. The scar was jagged, with longer and sharper edges, as if it was trying to elbow its way through Harry's hair as his most prominent feature. The nose was thinner and elongated, with small, snide nostrils. It was signed, "Potter" and beside it, in smaller handwriting, as if it was a secret only the heart of the artist knew: "the boy who shouldn't have lived".

Ginny didn't like the drawing at all. She placed it on the very bottom of the pile. The next drawing wasn't very flattering either. It was Hermione, but Hermione's hair was nothing but a wild tornado, or ragtag tumbleweed. Her eyes were large and fierce beneath two bushy eyebrows. Her lips were very boyish, lacking the two upturned points that most females had. Draco had signed this one "Mudblood 1". There were a few other "Mudbloods" afterwards, of various students that fell under the category.

Ginny went back to the drawing of her – it was still one of the best of them all. She turned the drawing over to read the comments he wrote, expecting to see something cruel, but saw there was very little writing, other than "curve of shoulders expressive" and "is it normal to smile in one's sleep? Must look up". Another affectionate smile fell upon Ginny's face.

Draco stirred in his sleep and she watched him for a second, like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. He looked like a choirboy after a fight, his hair unruly and gently curled without the mousse that inhibited it daily. Draco's face had a smile on it in his sleep. It was perfectly normal after all.

Sitting at the kitchen table just a few minutes later, Ginny attempted to write back to Lavender. She began a letter, but realized she had no idea how to reply to all the questions about Draco. Though they had shared the house for a while now, there was little to no common ground between them, and they rarely crossed paths. There wasn't much to write. Finally, Ginny crumpled the letter and tossed it out, deciding to write later.

" Good morning." Draco announced himself from the doorway. Out of habit, he began to make a breakfast for himself, then stopped and tried to think whether to ask Ginny to make it for him, or to ask Ginny if he should make her a portion. Finally, he went with the first: " Here, you can make it."

Ginny nodded and commenced making breakfast. They were silent. Soon she was done and she placed her bowl and his at the table, both filled with warm oatmeal. They ate in silence, until Ginny asked: " What's your job like?"

" Unimportant."

" What do you mean?"

" If I went missing, nobody would notice. Except Potter of course, he keeps his nose in everyone's business. Acts like he's _so_ caring." Draco murmured in reply, spooning some food into his mouth.

" Maybe he does care?" Ginny prompted.

" Nobody cares about the Malfoys these days." Draco said, stirring his oatmeal. " Nobody visits, nobody writes…"

" Well… I care." Ginny said, carefully. She didn't know if she meant it, though, but she wanted to be nice.

" No you don't. You _think_ you care because you have your job's stake in it. You didn't even worry about me before you came here, though, right?" Draco asked. He wasn't asking her in a hostile way. He remained calm, but she could see he was thinking very seriously.

" No, I didn't." She admitted.

Draco began peeling an orange of its skin, hesitantly, his nails scraping at the orange shell and then pausing from time to time. He suddenly seemed to stop entirely, placing the orange down, as if going down to another layer would be too difficult, too soon for him. The orange remained on the table, his hands suspended over it.

" I feel sorry for you." Ginny said, softly. She didn't mean it in a hurtful way – in fact, she was hoping for it to sound sincere and friendly, but when she looked up at Draco, his face darkened.

" Sorry for me?" He exclaimed.

" I didn't mean…"

Draco exploded: " You don't even **_KNOW_** me!"

" I…!"

He shook his head, grabbed his briefcase, and stormed out of the room, like a small child that can't handle an argument, afraid to be on one of the conflicting sides. He wanted to walk away feeling as if he'd won.

Ginny stared at the orange on the table, feeling awful. Then, the anger set in – he had no right to yell at her like that. He was horribly childish. _'Who does he think he is?'_ She thought bitterly. _'Seems like he's too proud for his own good'._

The doorbell rang two hours later. Ginny prayed it wouldn't be Draco, laid off from work, or worse, plumb drunk and spitting profanity like a sailor. When she peeked into the hole in the door though, she saw that a middle-aged man was standing out on the sidewalk, looking a bit peeved. She opened the door and the man burst in.

" Excuse me?" Ginny managed.

The man turned and looked at her. " Am I at the right household?"

" This is the Malfoy residence." Ginny said, feeling important just saying it.

" Ah! Okay, okay. Are you a cousin?"

" No, I work for them." The superior feeling deflated.

" I'm sorry to involve you like this, but – did they leave you an envelope with money? Or did they designate some furniture for it instead?" The man asked, rubbing his bald spot tentatively with his round fingers.

" I don't think I'm following you."

" I'm from the Ministry, to repossess some items of this household. Its very far back in its dues." The man added, after a pause: "My name is Mr. Caraway." Mr. Caraway was wiping his handkerchief across his face nervously, which was already sheen with sweat. " I'm sorry, to ah, bother the Malfoys again."

" They've never told me they've been in debt like this!" Ginny told him.

" Well, I'm afraid they are – in fact, they are so far behind, we have already confiscated much of their furniture." Mr. Caraway informed her. " I suppose you haven't been working too long here?"

Ginny shook her head, still feeling awful for not realizing how bad off the Malfoys were.

" I don't know what to say, then! I'm sorry for intruding. Have Mrs. Malfoy know that I've been here. I don't suppose she's home?"

" No, she isn't." Ginny lied. Narcissa had been sleeping all day, and she worried it must have been from the opened windows – she must have caught cold. If Narcissa could catch cold so easily, then so would Lucius, therefore!

" Goodbye then." Mr. Caraway stumbled out the door and then Apparated back to the Ministry with no loot from the Malfoys.

Ginny couldn't believe her ears. The Malfoys had overdrawn their house account in Gringotts! They were worse off than the Weasleys! The idea was at the same time satisfying and then on the other hand horrifying. She felt sorrier then ever for Draco, and she wished he could come home so she could try and attempt friendship.


	8. Progress

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Chapter Eight

Progress

Ginny had started dinner promptly at six o'clock that evening. Before it was a quarter past six, she already had the entire dinner ready. It was nothing extravagant, just three plump meatballs, some red sauce, and spaghetti. When she set three plates down on the table at six thirty in the evening, Draco was already sitting at the table, simply saying "Good evening" to her before enjoying the meal she prepared.

They ate in silence, respecting one another's needs for silent brooding. Narcissa came down just as Ginny was finishing. Narcissa was still dressed in her baggy old nightgown and her hair was back in a frizzy gray-streaked braid. She went into the kitchen and took out the sleep-inducing potion that the Malfoys kept on the top shelf over the Magic-Oven. " I've had the most awful night." She confessed to nobody in particular.

" I'm sorry." Ginny said.

" You should be." Narcissa turned, giving her a fierce glare. " My head throbs like crazy, and my throat is completely raw. If it weren't for those open windows of yours…"

" They aren't her fault." Draco said, setting his fork down.

" What do you mean they aren't? Is this your idea?" Narcissa's voice had softened the moment the conversation turned to her son. There was an unmistakable belief in every mother that her son was always innocent, no matter how much evidence could be laid down.

" It isn't my idea." Draco replied. " I'm starting to catch on to the notion it could be a hex."

" Honestly." Narcissa put her hands on her hips in exasperation. " Who'd have thought you'd side with a Weasley in an argument?"

" I'm not siding by her." Draco's voice remained remarkably steady, despite the fact that he was obviously growing impatient. " It wouldn't be fair to point at a random person and blame them for the worries of the world." He twirled his fork through his spaghetti and raised it to his lips, before adding as an afterthought: " I'll try to get to the bottom of this myself."

Narcissa nodded and then looked at Ginny with raised eyebrows. " I saw you opening the windows in the kitchen myself, just two days ago, and they're always open in your room."

" Please, Mrs. Malfoy!" Ginny laughed. " As if you have never opened a window in your own home?"

Narcissa took a long drink of the sleeping potion and then sat down at the table to eat. "It's rude to try and prove an adult wrong. Children should be seen and not heard."

Ginny frowned, for she had always thought of herself as an adult, at eighteen, but didn't say anything more. They were all finished with dinner soon enough anyway, and Narcissa stood and retired to her room for the night, her nose runny and her eyes watering. They heard her coughing and moving around her room for a while, then the house grew silent, and they only had one another.

Draco propped his elbows up on the table and placed one hand under his chin, leaning forwards provocatively as if he meant to engage in some conspirational whispering with Ginny. Instead, he spoke: " You've been looking at my art."

" I'm very sorry, a stack of drawings fell from your desk, so I just…"

" It's no problem." Draco was making a weak attempt at an apology and he ended it with a truly honest smile, which lifted the gray and dreariness from his face.

Ginny couldn't help but feel glad that he was no longer angry with her. She sipped at her tea and then removed the tea bag, setting it aside on the saucer and pressing her spoon on top of it. The black grains inside squeezed together and a dark brown liquid gathered around in the concave center of the spoon.

" About the way you said I don't know you." Ginny began, her eyes shifting upwards so that they could keep eye contact. It was an important element of developing a trust between her and him – the constant need for eye contact. Her warm-brown eyes, like honey glaze on a chocolate cookie, were filled with a cautious respect. " I'd like to get to know you."

A mischievous grin plastered its way onto his face, immediately giving him the look of the conniving prankster of the Hogwarts days. " Is that so?"

She nodded earnestly.

His expression took a severe, serious turn. " So that you could tell Potter and Granger every little tidbit you find out?"

" No!" Ginny exclaimed, jerking upwards in her seat. Her elbow banged the back of her chair and Draco made a face. She continued, rubbing her arm worriedly: " I would keep _everything_ confidential, if you'd like."

Draco sat there, silently brooding it all over in his mind, and then finally grasped the wine bottle at the table and tilted it over, readying to pour it into his empty glass. In an instant, Ginny's hand swiveled out and wrapped around the mouth of the cup, covering it completely. Her fingers trembled a bit, but she kept her voice steady: " Please don't."

He sat down again, still holding the wine in his hand, a grievous look painting in his features. His eyes were just a shade darker than the fog-cast autumn sky outside. " What do you want from me?" He demanded.

" I think you need someone to talk to."

Draco was giving her a hard look, measuring her in every angle and aspect with those eyes, brutal and unforgiving. The dark black pupils in the center dilated slightly as he glanced out the window at the hazy sun, trying to combat its way out from a thin net of clouds that blocked it out. Ginny could have sworn he was trying not to laugh.

" You must think I'm crazy." He managed, the Adam's apple in his throat moving slightly as he forced back his laughter.

Ginny didn't know how to reply, so she took a very neutral path: " You said yourself that I don't know you well enough to judge you."

He smirked. " Unbelievable, that anyone could manage to be endlessly nice."

She shot back: " Unusual that anyone can manage to be completely surly and dark their entire life."

He stood, corking the wine. " You're clever, for a Weasley. Good night." He set the wine on the shelf in the cabinet, stretched, and began to unbutton his shirt as he headed out the room and up the staircase.

" Good night." She called after him half-heartedly, trying to decipher his words. Was he accepting her help? Was he being obstinate? Was he trying to avoid talking to her at all costs? Or did he already prove he wanted to talk to her?

Ginny pulled out a parchment of paper and began to write to Lavender again. She stared at the paper for a while, and then scribbled **_Dear Lavender_** at the top. The paper suddenly looked horribly empty, beginning for words that she jus couldn't pull out of thin air. Her quill hovered over the paper, then began to scratch out a few words to describe Draco. Her hand was hesitant, slow, curving and exaggerating the letters, playing with the font and size, as if she was stalling.

Finally, she folded this letter in half and tossed it into the trashcan as well. She decided she still did not know Draco enough to judge him. Yet another voice in her head questioned her if she had passed judgement already.

It was midnight. The house was impeccably dark, with all the curtains closed and the dust thick enough in the air to choke her with every breath. There were some rooms in the house that haven't had a breath of fresh air for a few years now. The stale odor was everywhere, penetrating from the curtains to the floorboards. Ginny heard Lucius fussing in his room like a small baby, completely dependent on another person to live. Her eyes closed and she tried to imagine what anyone could do to deserve this fate.

There had been times where she had thought the Malfoys deserved every thunderbolt they got from the Heavens, but now she almost wishes that she had never thought that way. The single pained expression in Draco's eyes, or the hollow, lifeless eyes of Lucius, were enough to make her reconsider any of her ill wishes.

She had not even changed into her night clothes, so she didn't waste any time getting to Lucius. He had slipped from the bed and fallen to the floor and was face down, his voice muffled by the thick down comforter. " Mr. Malfoy!" She exclaimed, turning him over so he was on his back.

His stark white eyebrows arched high into his forehead and his eyes focused dead into hers, and she could see her reflection in the pools of shadow that were right in the center of his gray irises. His eyes were Draco's eyes, but lost of that magical sparkle. Lucius had the eyes of a wild animal, lost and alone in a world where he didn't understand, didn't feel or quite know what was going on.

" N… no… no, no!" Lucius stammered absent-mindedly.

Ginny smoothened his white hair back tenderly and then helped him up into bed. He had lost so much weight, he was like a straw doll, and even she, a chubby and slightly worn out young woman, could lift him with ease. 

Once Lucius was secure in bed, the covers straight and smooth and cool to the touch, she sat herself down in the rocker opposite his bed and then watched him intently. He was breathing quickly, his ribcage rising up and down, the bones making strong imprints in the fabric of his shirt. He looked completely terrifying, a true specter.

Trying to calm his frayed nerves and her own, Ginny began a story. This one was more gentle, and her voice had a calming effect on them both. She told a story about a magical boy that received an invisible cloak, who found a magical mirror one night of his adventures and then saw his greatest desires in it.

Her eyes were brimming with tears as she whispered: " If you were to see into that mirror, would it be blank to you? Would you even see yourself in it? Surely you desire to be dead, than in your body… Oh, what a terrible thought." Ginny glanced down at her square-tipped nails sadly. "I wonder what Draco would see, then. I'm sure you'd be well in it."

Lucius let out a slow wheezing breath, his thin nostrils flaring open.

" If he would have such a pure, innocent wish, is he any more evil in his heart than - - than the boy in the story?" Ginny wondered aloud, pressing the covers underneath Lucius's body. He had already drifted to sleep.

Ginny stood and then put a second blanket over Lucius' still form. Then she walked out into the hallway and started to make her way to her room. She passed by the gargoyle and saw that Narcissa was standing right there, making her way towards the kitchen, mumbling something about how stuffy and congested she felt.

" I'd recommend hot tea, it works wonders on colds." Ginny said, cheerily, as Narcissa walked by. Narcissa's eyes were looking at the floor, her eyelids appearing near closed, and just a curtain of dark eyelashes separating her from Ginny.

Narcissa was so cold that she didn't even say thanks to Ginny, she simply breathed out: "Tea." In a mocking way, and then ambled down the staircase and to the kitchen, her step still slightly wobbly. Narcissa had just woken up, though, so maybe she was just too tired to take any notice in Ginny.

When Ginny returned to her window and saw that once again, her window was wide open, and her scarf had been tossed to the floor by the wind, where it looked sullen and dirty in the shadows of the desk.

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Author's Note: I would like to cordially invite any readers to go to www.harrypotternovel.com , a Harry Potter Discussion Forum for the intelligent and insightful reader. I am an Administrator and Moderator there.


	9. Loved and Lost

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Chapter Nine

Loved and Lost

Draco had been summoned to Harry Potter's office again, and this time he didn't know how pleasant he could be. Lucius had screamed and fussed all morning, and Draco had spilled his coffee onto the lap of his new white pants because of all the commotion. Ginny was flushed, running here and there, trying to cook breakfast while deciding what story to tell Lucius. As he walked into the office room, he was hit with a wave of pleasant scents – someone had baked cookies and Harry was enjoying them. It didn't take a genius to guess that Hermione had visited Harry at work today.

Harry looked up and saw Draco. Immediately, his face took on a shy, nervous coloring. "Draco." He said, standing himself up and holding his hand out to him.

Draco stared at Harry's hand, wondering what the sound of his bones breaking slowly but surely would be like. His structured fingers, slightly stubby and simple, shrank back from Draco Malfoy, realizing that there would be no friendly handshake.

" What do you want to complain about now, Potter?" Draco asked, sliding his hands into his pants pockets casually.

" Here, please sit down." Harry offered.

" I'd rather stand." Draco replied, towering in an intimidating way over Harry's desk. He kept a very casual manner in body language, not bothering to stand straight. Though Harry had an authority over him through the job position he held, Draco made it appear as if he was the boss and Harry was the servant.

" I have been meaning to talk to you about some things." Harry took out a manila folder and then opened it. Out slipped numerous files.

" More papers to sort?" Draco murmured.

" These…" Harry thumped his hand on the half-a-centimeter thick pile. "… Are all complaints filed against you in the past year." Harry's face was wringing with concern, an expression that Draco's features seemed to lack entirely.

" I don't see what you're trying to prove."

" I'm not _trying _to prove anything." Harry settled back in his chair, taking a deep breath. "Shall I read a few?"

" Knock yourself out." Draco fidgeted and finally lowered himself into a seat, so that he was eye level with Harry. It was the closest he'd allow them to having an open-minded, two-way conversation.

" I quote, 'I have never received a memo about an important business meeting. Later I found it in the trash in the paper sorting room. The boy there, Draco Malfoy, was incorrigible and hopelessly snide'… end quote." Harry recited, then glanced at Draco over his spectacles as if he were a kindergarten teacher trying to spook a student. Draco raised his left eyebrow.

" It must have been that madman from the second floor." Draco replied, coolly, looking down at his nails, all cut evenly and managed with care. He wouldn't stoop to appear like a slob just because he was run-down with work and stress. " He's always spilling coffee on his papers and then blaming me. It isn't my fault he's so fat he can't see the papers on his desk past his gut…"

" Ahem!" Harry cleared his throat sharply and continued: " Here is another one… ' My briefcase seemed unusually light and so I went through it and saw my Muggle Artifacts portfolio, one I had been preparing for days, was gone. I had left it in my mail slot in the paper-sorting room. It had cost me months of work. I hope to see that scoundrel in the mailroom out on his behind in the rain. I'll bash …' Well, no need to read on, I'm sure you can guess what the root of this letter is."

" Who cares about Muggle Artifacts anyway?" Draco remarked, keeping his voice steady. " All they have to do is screw your girlfriend for a while and she'll tell them everything they need to know."

Harry's face reddened horribly, but he kept his own composure. Harry was not one to verbally slap out some insults. Instead, he hid them all in his mind. He did give Draco a serious warning look, though. " These letters go on and on. I can understand your frequent tardiness and unexcused absence from work, but being irresponsible when you _do_ work…" Harry shook his head. " I just can't understand you."

Draco's face twitched briefly into a delighted smirk before he replied: " You should have listened in Wizard Psychology, Potter, instead of staring at Mudblood."

Harry stiffened. " You're walking a very thin line." He hissed. " I have my own repercussions about firing you, because of personal reasons, and you know that. I could still easily file all these complaint files to the Head of the Ministry – _my_ boss."

" What does he care?" Draco questioned, arrogantly.

" He does care. He told me to file a full report on all the complaints I receive. He plans to thin out the employee list a bit." Harry waggled his quill pen at Draco. " If he as much as sees _one_ of these complaints, then you'll be fired for sure. The situation would be completely out of my hands."

" Well! That would be a relief to you, wouldn't it?" Draco had stood up, fuming. " You think you can control everyone around you because of the scar on your head. You think I don't want a better job? You're wrong…" Draco grabbed the pencil-holder tin on Harry's desk and threw it across the room. Wooden pencil splinters and quill feathers rained down to the floor.

" If you don't control yourself…!" Harry's voice was raised to a shout too. " … Then you'll be sorry! One more error, _one more error_, I warn you - - and this file is going to the Head of the Ministry."

Draco's eyes thinned into hateful slits. He opened the door and walked out. Once outside, with the wooden shield between him and Harry, he turned and gestured angrily at the door, making obscene hand gestures. " I despise you." He whispered, finally, feeling his heart crumple in a horrible nervous flurry. " I despise everything about you."

Ginny had started knitting a sweater, made of fleecy orange and red yearns. She looked up from the comforting clack of the needles at the fire in front of her, behind the huge metal teeth that held it back. The wooden logs inside crackled in silent misery and the flames roared and burst painfully. There was a strain in the air, and she felt it most when her gaze shifted to Draco Malfoy, just across from her on the couch.

He was lying on his side and appeared to be dozing, though his feet were still moving, his knees bending as he brought them up in a protective way and then straightening as he would lie flat and still like a corpse. Draco couldn't find a comfortable position.

She knew something had happened at work, but she couldn't piece together what it was. Draco hadn't touched the liquor at all yet, but he did seem to have a taste for it. She could see his eyes wander to the bottle of wine on the fireplace mantle, right underneath the family portrait.

Ginny decided that it was time to break the quiet. Talking would be the quickest and safest way to heal. " You really are a gifted artist."

Draco turned to look at her. He smiled and nodded. " Thank you."

" Who taught you?"

He seemed to remember something, and there was a silence. Afterwards, Draco said: " It was this nice old art tutor my father hired. All the Malfoy men had some sort of artistic talent. My father – don't laugh – he would do charcoal sketches. They're all in the attic somewhere."

Ginny smiled. " That's almost endearing." Her needles clacked as she looped over her second needle then pulled the yarn through it, making a new loop. " Tell me about your art tutor, then."

Draco gave her a wistful smile. " His name was Sir Houghton and he would tutor me three times a week, since I was twelve. Over the summers only, of course."

" That's a lot of classes. Did you like art?"

" I liked it and hated it at the same time." Draco said. " I hope that's not confusing?"

" It is." She admitted, laughing.

He sat up, dropping his feet to the floor. " I wasn't very good, so Sir Houghton had me make a sketch each month of someone from Hogwarts while I was away. I hated doing that, I only had Pansy and Crabbe and Goyle, and they're not exactly prized masterpieces of human flesh." He looked sad. " I liked my teacher though. I still remember him."

" What is he like?" Ginny asked curiously. " In your mind. Paint me a picture with words."

" You stopped knitting." Draco pointed out.

Ginny looked down at the yarns in her hand and she immediately began knitting again. The constant gentle sound of the needles rubbing together helped soothe the increasingly frequent silences, filled with unsaid words like gaps in a child's jaw, where it had lost teeth.

" He was tall, and had gray hair." Draco began, then continued after a while: " His eyes were sort of annoying. He would stare at you and lead you to believe he could read all your thoughts. Hell, he probably _could_ read all my thoughts. He always knew what I was trying to say through my art."

" You weren't a bad artist at all, then, if you could get your art to speak messages like that." Ginny pointed out.

He rolled his eyes. " I doubt it…" Draco stood up and took the wine off the mantle. Behind it was a glass, already prepared for his dastardly drinking. " No, I think he just had something magical about him. He was pure blood, you know. Probably could trace his magical roots way back to Merlin."

" Of course he'd be pure blood. Your father hired him." Ginny chimed, shifting the sweater she was making so that the orange yarn fuzz didn't rub off on her cream-colored skirt.

" Sir Houghton would smack my hands with his stupid ruler when I got distracted or made needless errors." Draco said. He looked down at the floor, where he could see the maze of floral patterns; it was all tinted a frail gray near the fireplace, where the ashes had settled and where the embers burned away color.

" He was strict, then?"

" Strict, but a good teacher. I hated his rules, but at the same time liked them, since without them I'd probably still draw like a preschooler." Draco uncorked the wine, then suddenly stared at its label, noticing the digits of alcohol content for the first time, it seemed. Ginny watched him expectantly, crossing her fingers under the shield of the sweater that he'd put the wine down.

" Would you like some?" He asked, finally. " It's good wine. We have a lot of it. My grandfather made most of it, so it's pretty aged."

" No thank you."

" No?"

" I don't drink."

" Everyone drinks." Draco twiddled the cork back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. " Everyone does." He added, to himself. This prompted him to turn the wine bottle over and fill the glass.  
Ginny knew better than to try to lecture him. " Tell me more about your art class."

" It's nothing important." Draco said, quickly. " Really, it's all a bunch of old memories anyway. Nothing interesting at all." He lifted the glass to his lips.

Trying to divert his attention, Ginny blurted out quickly: " Please, I'd like to hear it."

" You never give up." He said, crossly. " Shouldn't you be the one telling stories to us? Servants should amuse, not question."

" I don't think of myself as a servant." Ginny told him. " I'd rather think of myself as a friend-in-training."

Draco smiled, not able to help himself. " You're like a children's book, you know? Filled with good thoughts and morals." He tipped the glass to her. " Cheers."

Ginny nodded half-heartedly. " I guess my parents raised me that way."

" Sir Houghton was one of those rule-abiding men, too." Draco began again, leaning himself against the pillow, sipping the wine. " He hated my sense of humor. Said it was too dark, too mean." 

" Did you agree with him?"

" No. You can't change a person, can you?" Draco asked. " Especially not me."

" Why not you?" She persisted.

His glass was filled halfway now. " Half empty already." He said, aloud, dodging her question. " I liked Sir Houghton a lot, though, despite what a stuffed shirt he was. I spent hours playing chess with him when I was too lazy to draw."

" Did you win?" Ginny badgered on. She wanted to chat him up. The more questions he would reply, the more she would know about him. The sooner she could try and offer some help and reform to his thoughts and ways.

" We'd tie." Draco said. " Well, that's not entirely fair to say, there really isn't a tie in chess. It was more a of a draw, then. We'd end up king to king a lot. He was always really proud of himself, and of me. He was sort of like the grandfather I never had."

" You didn't know your grandfathers?"

" My mother's father, he died when she was still little. Then my father's father, he died when I was two. Sir Houghton passed away in my sixth year."

" Oh, I'm really sorry…"

Draco finished the glass and said, woefully: " It was in the middle of summer, too. It was raining like crazy, damned British weather, and his grave had half a foot of water in it by the time they lowered him in." His lower lip trembled as he reflected on the experience. " Everyone was throwing handfuls of rose petals in, but mine washed out of my hands."

Ginny was respectfully silent.

" … So I… so I put my acrylics set in there. The entire thing, a big wooden box… I never painted in color again after that. I couldn't." Draco looked at her, glossy eyed. " You'd understand, wouldn't you? Not my mother, though, she was angry that I wouldn't paint anymore."

" I…"

" You know that painting over the fireplace? I did that; I finished it the week before he died. I was going to throw it out afterwards, but Mother insisted to hang it up." Draco turned away from the painting. " I hate it. It reminds me of his face, all gray and pale, when he died. It reminds me of my father, too, before Potter had to ruin my life."

" Draco…"

" Yes, I know. It isn't my fault, they all died or went crazy, but it wasn't my fault… but it felt like it was. I got into a big argument with Sir Houghton the same day he died. Then he had a stroke later that day…"

" It wasn't your fault, those things happen naturally…"

" I never got to tell him I loved him a lot. He really _was_ my grandfather, in my mind." Draco said, talking rapidly so as not to allow the tears to come in. " I never got to tell my father I loved him, either."

Ginny stood and sat down beside him, leaving her knitting behind. He faced her, and continued: " I never painted again. I'd do black and white drawings, but I never painted again."

Ginny remembered how he had colored her hair in with red, though, and her hand shot up to touch her red braids. Draco realized what she was trying to say and commented: " I know what you're going to ask… why I colored your hair. Well, it was the first thing that I noticed about you that really stood out. It's really red, you know."

" Redheads are supposedly little devils inside." Ginny said. " According to old wives' tales."

" It was the first colorful thing that's been in our house for a long time."

Ginny nodded in understanding. " Draco, I have another question. Please don't answer if you don't want to."

" What is it?"

" Have you ever been in love? Have you ever felt true love?"

" I always loved my parents." Draco replied. " I guess my art teacher, too… but not a girl, if that's what you mean. I dated, but I never felt any love for them. Maybe a lust, I guess, but not love."

Ginny nodded.

" What about you?" He asked.

" I have never felt love, either, for a man." She admitted, flushing. " I did feel love a lot, and I still do, to nearly everyone and everything. I never felt _that_ kind of love, though."

Draco sighed. " I wish I could have told my father I loved him, though. I can't now – he wouldn't understand me. I don't love that ghost, that stupid shell that's left of him. I don't think he ever knew that I loved him." He had tears in his eyes again. " God, I'm drunk again, aren't I?"

Ginny smiled at him, hoping that perhaps a smile would lift his spirits. He seemed to have retreated into his own little world though. She took his hand and held it warmly between her two smaller ones, and they sat like that for a good few minutes. Draco didn't even notice she was holding his hand, he was lost in thought. He probably thought she had already left the room.

Ginny finally stood and left the room, taking the wine with her. It could stand around with such free access no longer.

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Author's Note: Hoping to give more heed to Draco's inner turmoil, this chapter was filled with a lot of dialogue. Sorry if it was sort of dull (?) I will work on making the next few chapters growingly exciting.


	10. Laughter

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Name: LittleMaggie

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Date: November 27, 2002

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Note: I hope you like this story. Feel free to drop me a review, it really inspires me to write more.

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Chapter Ten

Laughter

The next morning, Ginny was pleased to see that all the wines and gins and tonics stood in their rightful place, sealed and untouched. Draco hadn't been hitting the drink overnight, then. She woke up extra early again, before anyone else in the house, since she wanted to sneak out and catch Harry before he went to work. She had some things to discuss with him.

The clock on the wall read 3:45, so Ginny had some time. The clock itself was interesting, for it had a pair of eyes growing from it, and the eyes were blinking sleepily. Each time the eyes closed fully, it would maneuver the seconds hand counterclockwise until his eyes opened again. Therefore the clock was a good ten minutes off each morning, but the Malfoys didn't bother themselves in buying new ones. 

Draco seemed to have some sort of natural clock built into him, and he would wake up six in the morning on the dot each day, never a minute late, other than purposely. Ginny was starting to wonder if perhaps Draco was trying to be obnoxious to Harry on purpose, to push Harry over that line of simple verbal contact between them. Draco needed to get his frustrations out in some way, and he did it physically.

The clock's eyes drooped to tiny slits again and the second hand fidgeted nervously, waiting to spin around. Ginny stopped staring at it and decided to put her creativity to a test by writing a reply to Lavender. It was about time – Lavender was probably sure that the Malfoys had poisoned her by now.

__

Dear Lavender,

I'm glad you like your job with Trelawney. You really did fancy that class, didn't you? I guess it's about time I wrote to you about what it's like here. Sorry if the letter's going to be sort of boring, I really tend to go off on abstracts sometimes.

Have you ever really wondered what Malfoy was thinking? I mean, I know, he was always a stupid perverted baby. He was always such a loser in school too, the way he made such a big deal about being bitten by Buckbeak, or even when he made fun of everyone, as if he was some sort of Greek god or something.

Anyway, he's been sort of talking to me lately. I can't say we've had heart-to-heart talks yet, I think he's really locked up in himself. Like that shy boy that you once dated, remember him? It's as if he's got a lot to say but something or someone is holding him back. He's not so stupid as I thought, I can't talk deeply into it since it's sort of confidential, but he did do some pretty okay things other than the Dark Arts when he wasn't in school.

Sometimes I think maybe his parents were too hard on him. I bet you're thinking he was the most privileged kid ever, but I don't mean in a money sort of way. I mean it in a psychological way. If he was raised by other people he'd probably been my friend. Maybe we would have even dated, he's pretty nice looking, don't you think? I can't believe I just wrote that. But since his parents raised him to be a snot, that's what he was. And the whole Dark Arts thing, that's probably his parents too. Not that I'm DEFENDING him! He should have known better anyway, right…?

Besides he had to have a tutor over the summer. OVER THE SUMMER! Can you believe how awful that would be? He liked it though, from what I'm getting. I mean, he was Head Boy and a perfect, mostly through Snape's pushing, but he also has some brains, right?

I can't believe I filled the entire parchment about Malfoy. He's just on my mind right now. It's so early in the morning and so gray and cold in here, it's hard to think of anything else. Hey, did you ever have a snowglobe? I had one from Harry, I got it on Christmas my fifth year. I found it a few weeks ago and it was all covered in dust and it was really gray and rough around the edges. Then I wiped the dust off and you could see the sparkles again. Maybe that's what Malfoy's like. Maybe he just has a lot of gray stuff around him, but the sparkles are still inside, somewhere.

Okay, no more Draco. I have some space left, so I'm going to tell you what it's like working here. I don't think being a nurse is too difficult, except for the part where I have to keep tending to Lucius in the night. It's something awful, the rumors were true, he's really completely paralyzed, and crazy to boot. I wonder sometimes if he's really alive, even. I wonder if he knows whether he is alive or in hell already.

Narcissa comes and goes, she's sort of a hypochondriac, I think. She drinks a lot of sleeping potions and is conked out most of the day. Draco's sort of dodging her at home, he doesn't want to start a row. She's a bit iffy about his drinking and then he's a bit iffy about her sleeping tonics. He's really very compliant to his parents though, it's odd. Wait, no more Draco. Seems like I'm telling myself more than you.

Then there's also small things, but creepy things. For instance, the windows open randomly all through the day. I don't know what's wrong with them. Oh I'm out of room GOODBYE HUGS AND KISSES, GINNY

Ginny stared at her letter, proof-reading it, found little to no errors, and then handed it to the Malfoy's owl. She didn't have an owl of her own, she never brought it with her when she came to live at the Malfoy Mansion. The Malfoy's owl was always handy around the kitchen or outside, only leaving periodically to catch something to eat. Otherwise it slept.

She watched the owl fly out the window and far into the clouds in the sky. She sighed, stretched, and then took out her Floo Powder. It was time to bide hello to Harry. She only hoped she didn't catch him doing anything compromising or embarrassing by popping out of his chimney.

Ginny wiped the soot off from her eyelids. There was a brief moment where all she saw was a cloud of gray and black dust, then the room came into focus. She had seen Harry's apartment before. Now she grinned widely, seeing the huge poster hanging on the wall, with Harry and Hermione dancing together merrily. She had surely reached the right house.

" What's going on in there?" Harry marched into the room, buttoning his shirt. He had a tie draped over one of his shoulders. There was a tiny piece of paper towel stuck to his throat, held down with a small bead of blood.

" Oh, Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, creating a clamor as she climbed out of the chimney, her high-heeled, knee-high boots first, then her yellow-tinted jeans, slightly marred with gray soot. "I'm so sorry, I'm here early, aren't I?"

" Four thirty in the morning." Harry squinted at her. He wasn't wearing his glasses. He really did have fairly thick eyelashes, for a boy. They created a black furry fan around his eyes. His glasses helped soften the look though, most of the time. " What happened? Did someone die?" Harry almost sounded hopeful for a second.

" No, nothing like that." Ginny mumbled, feeling her face flush in humility. " I really was hoping to catch you before work."

" Well, top of the morning to you, too." Harry said, smiling crookedly. He was now working on the tie, which had a pretty stubborn, unforgiving knot in it.

" I'm here to talk to you about Draco. I need a serious conference. Treat me as if I were a client, okay?" Ginny pleaded.

Harry shook his head. " Ginny, you know that Malfoy would rather have his fingernails pulled off than asked for help! He's a real bast…"

" Harry…!" She scolded.

" … I'm only being honest with you." His tie was in place, so now his hands were unoccupied. Harry's hands reached up instinctively to twiddle at his glasses, but only caught tufts of hair that spilled over his ears. It was a habit Harry had, when he was nervous – he liked to fidget around with his hands. " Here, come into the kitchen." He offered.

Ginny walked into the kitchen, where everything seemed to signal that Harry was a bachelor, from the messy cutting board, still littered with tomato slices from the night before, to the sink of unwashed dishes, to the unfortunate pinstripe suit teetering from a hanger on the doorknob.

Harry got his glasses back and he immediately yanked them onto his nose. " Alright, I'll be straight-forward, since I wouldn't lie to you. Plus I don't really have time to come up with a lie." He smiled at his own joke.

Ginny grinned in appreciation. " Please?"

" The Head of the Ministry is going to have four strokes in a _row_ if he sees the complaints I have on Draco. He's going to lose his job for sure, the moment the Head gets to read my File of Complaints." Harry's eyes hid behind his eyelashes again, trying to avoid the look of concern on Ginny's face.

" Complaints?"

" Lots of them. A huge stack of papers."

" Oh, can't you delay this report? I promise you, I think Draco is _not_ a lost cause. He seems to kind sometimes, so…"

" … Human?" Harry guessed.

Ginny blushed. " He was **always **human."

Harry looked frustrated. He pressed his finger into the stick of melting butter on the table, then drew it out again, staring at it, not really comprehending his own actions. The hole in the butter needed a second one, of course, so he added it in. " Is it humanity, to never forgive, Ginny? To always sow seeds of hate and reap the misfortune that comes in? Or is that already death?"

She was frowning. " He is **not** dead. God, Harry, he's not dead inside. I feel it from him, it's like this flame…"

" A flame? From Draco?" Harry sketched in a pair frown-lips underneath the two eyes he made in the utter. " He's grayer and drier than ashes by now." Harry sighed. " Don't you get yourself into trouble, Ginny." He was giving her a knowing look.

" Trouble, Harry?" She sputtered. Harry was actually accusing her of trying to get into a relationship with Draco! Couldn't a girl look out for another person without being accused of something like that?

She burst his suspicions, though. " I just want to help the Malfoys. I promise, he will pull his act together. Just give him time. I know they'd never ask for help, they'd rather starve in that mansion of theirs. Oh, Harry, _please_?"

" Hell, I'll try my best."

They were sitting together in front of the fireplace again. The room had begun to be their little place for discussions, usually ranging on various topics, trying to avoid any pressing issues. They discussed world events, politics, and eventually the topic ran into friends and friendships.

" I always had Crabbe and Goyle." Draco told Ginny.

" I always loved all _my _friends, still do." Ginny said. " Did you cherish them?"

Draco rolled his eyes. " _Cherish_ them? As if they're fragile roses, or something!" He thought hard. " They kept an eye on me, I kept an eye on them. They were my body guards, the guys that always stood up for my opinions. In exchange, their family had some pretty nice connections through me and my father."

" Do you still talk with them?"

" By letter. They're professional bodyguards now, for some big-time business guy, he bought a chain store recently." Draco looked away from the fire momentarily to exchange glances with Ginny. " They were meant for it."

" Would you like to see my room?"

" What?" Draco sat up straight. This would be a totally new atmosphere, a place where the original comfort of the fireplace was gone.

" I just want to show you some things I got from my friends." Ginny explained, feeling her ears turning hot, and she prayed that he didn't notice. She didn't quite know why she cared, but she knew she did, from the thud of her heart.

" Ah." He got up, shrugging. " I haven't anything else to do, I suppose."

He followed her this time, as she led him through the house. It made her think of her first time in their mansion, and how he had showed her around briefly before shutting her into her room. " Here." She opened the door and let him go in first, then she followed.

Draco sat down on the bed, carefully avoiding the colorful quilt and opting to sit on the folded gray blanket that was at the foot of the bed. It was the original bed covering. Ginny got onto her knees and dug into the shelves of her bureau. She shuffled through nightgowns and slips and then pulled out a music box.

" There we go!" She shuffled towards the bed and sat down beside him, opening the music box. Inside, a svelte black cat spun around on a pedestal. Then, it turned to face Draco's direction, meowed, and blinked it's green eyes. Slowly it spun to a stop and the pedestal raised, revealing a small compartment.

" It's from Lavender." Draco noted, seeing Ginny and Lavender's names etched in gold letter inside the red velvet lining of the box.

" Yep." Ginny said, then closed the box.

" I never thought you and her would be friends, you know."

" You can expect the greatest kinship from the most unlikely people." Ginny said, finally.

He laughed for the first time in a long time, as Ginny popped open the box again. This time, the cat spun around and did the can-can. Something malfunctioned and the cat suddenly stopped, it's legs in midair, and yowled angrily before freezing completely. " Oh, man!" Ginny exclaimed, and tapped at it. It came alive again, and closed on it's own accord.

She began to laugh too, then, and they both laughed, unsure why. She turned to look at him and saw that he was watching her intently. More though, he was observing her hair, which was down again. " Would you like to pose for a painting again?" He asked, finally.

" I thought you retired your acrylics."

" When I look at you, I only see color, though. Do you know what I mean?"

Ginny nodded slowly.

" If I were to paint you black and white, it wouldn't be… **you**."

" I'm flattered, actually…"

" Don't be too full of yourself, or I'll draw you with a pompous look on your face." Draco smirked.

" You wouldn't!"

" I really could. Paint you like one of those Malfoy heirs in the hallway."

She laughed.

" Ah, the ancestors were alright, though. All the Malfoys had a good head on their shoulders and a nose for business. My father's words." Draco told her.

" Would you describe yourself that way?" Ginny inquired.

" No."

" Well, ah… if you were to paint yourself a color, what color would you be?" Ginny intoned, smiling.

" Gray." Draco looked terribly solemn, then laughed again. " And red pepper inside."

" And me? What color am I?"

" Yellower than marigold hearts, with orange strokes. A real firecracker."

Ginny touched her hair.

" No, no, so much more than your hair. You made your room come alive with color just by being in it." He pointed around her room. " Look at all this. It was so old and gray, now it looks like a country cabin. It's… _aglow_."

" I suppose I could make your room like that. Would you like me to snazz it up?"

Draco stared at her, his eyebrows raising. Ginny worried she might have insulted him, but instead he told her: " On _my _paycheck? I can barely afford the dust bunnies under my bed."

She looked pleased, because it was surely a step if he could refer to himself and his financial situation with a smile, instead of in a negative way.

" There's a solution to everything." Ginny pointed out.

" If you say Potter, I'll force-feed your yellow scarf to you!" Draco warned.

" No, no!" She laughed. " The solution is positive thought."

He shook his head again. " You're so full of crap you might _just_ be on to something."


	11. Rough Draft

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Name: LittleMaggie

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Date: November 28, 2002

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Note: The hardest part about writing this story is coming up with titles! I have no idea what to call my chapters, but just calling them Chapter One, Two, etc. seems too simple, as if I'm letting myself off the hook. I hope I'm naming them well enough?

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Chapter Eleven

Rough Sketch

Draco was sitting right across the table from her but he seemed to be in another world, one all of his own. He was moving his fork across his plate, back and forth, trying to arrange the bacon strips so that they looked more promising, but all he saw were thin slats of meat, leaking with oil. " I'm not fond of meat in the morning." He said.

" I was getting tired of oatmeal." Ginny replied, spearing her fork through a piece of bacon and popping it into her mouth. " Come on, you're really getting thin, you know."

He gave her a look.

Ginny continued: " You're not getting any nutrition from what you eat, you know. Just some oatmeal in the morning, then in the evening you eat some crummy dinner and then drink down some empty calories." She waited to see his reaction.

" What are you trying to say? That I'm an alcoholic?" He exclaimed.

" I'm not saying that, I'm just trying to say you need to feed yourself better. I'm telling you, you'll feel and look better too." Ginny smiled warmly.

" And you must be the authority on this?" Draco said, smirking. She knew what he was referring to – she wasn't exactly stick thin. She was just a bit round, mostly lingering baby fat, but it suited her. It gave her a motherly sort of look, like someone easy to confide to.

" You've been drinking a lot."

" It's not a crime."

" It's a crime against yourself. You're poisoning your liver." Ginny told him.

" Oh, please." His eyes darted to the alcohol cabinet involuntarily, but he caught himself. "I am in no way dependent on alcohol."

" Really, now?"

" Yes, really."

They sat there, giving each other hard looks over the table. Draco's gray eyes flashed humorously as he wiggled his eyebrows. Ginny started to laugh and broke the staring contest by looking down at her place mat. " Why are you so stubborn about everything? If I caught you with your hand in the cookie jar, you'd still insist it wasn't you."

" That's just how I am." 

" No, you just don't know any better." Ginny sighed. " You really have been beaten over the head with all these Malfoy values your entire life, haven't you?"

" Beaten over the head?" He exclaimed. " I think my childhood was pretty cushy, thank you…"

" Mr. Malfoy." She said, finally. " You can't deal right with any emotions. When you were a kid you made a baby out of yourself in school."

He glared at her.

" You'd make a huge deal out of everything, from the event with Buckbeak to…"

" Hey, that was traumatizing." He was smiling.

" Wipe that stupid grin off your face. I'm not joking around here." She put her head down on her hands in frustration. " You're so - - so _arrogant_ and obnoxious…" Taking a deep breath, Ginny continued: " Anyway, what I'm trying to say is, now that you're all grown up, you're hitting the liquor as an escape route. You know, instead of reverting to those silly tantrums, you just drown your sorrows."

" Sorrows? **_What_** sorrows? I'm not some sort of poor Weasley-type…"

" No!" She shouted. " Listen to me. If you're not an alcoholic, prove it!"

" What? Do you want a hand-chiseled stone tablet? _Draco art not a drinker?_"

Ginny hid her smile. _Success._ " I'll take all the alcohol and hide it in my room. If you can handle yourself without running to the kitchen cabinet all day, I'll believe you."

Draco crossed his arms across his chest, narrowing his eyes. " Is that your analysis, doctor?"

" It's a challenge."

" Fine, I'll take it. Malfoy to Weasley." He spat. " You'll see, I'll prove you wrong." He stood, grabbing his suitcase.

" Wait." Ginny said. " Have… have a nice day at work."

" Yeah, sure." He murmured, still caught in the air of competition. " You too." He added, before leaving.

Ginny grinned to herself. " Reverse psychology." She whispered to the Malfoy owl, which was preening its feathers on the windowsill. " Best thing of all, I'm getting my way and he doesn't even know it." It was a delicious thing to know.

Mr. Samuel was busily stacking applications for help at the front desk when Draco breezed in. He could see it right away, something afire about the Malfoy boy. He walked briskly, as if he were heading for some head-to-head word battle at an important business meeting. That panther-like stalk he had when he walked was entirely different from his usual rebellious sulk.

" Good morning." Mr. Samuel called after Draco.

Draco stopped and turned, as if seeing the frail old man for the first time. " Oh, right. Good morning." He said.

" I'd like to talk with you, son." Mr. Samuel called out. " Come closer."

Draco obliged, but he did so with a reluctant attitude. " What is it?" He demanded, once he was standing by Mr. Samuel's desk, his moody eyes staring right into the desk worker's.

" I thought I'd let you know about some of the talk out here." Mr. Samuel told him. " I'd feel guilty if I didn't."

" I really don't think I want to know…"

" Listen, you _do _want to know, trust me. Your job is hanging by a very thin thread." Mr. Samuel said.

Draco shrugged. " I know already. Big deal."

" You might be young and hot headed now, but you'll regret it someday. You have opportunity, you're intelligent and young and handsome, you can make a name of yourself for all the good reasons, not the bad."

Draco shook his head. " Harry Potter wouldn't dare file the report to the Head of the Ministry."

" So you know about it, then?" Mr. Samuel said. " Harry's already prepared a rough draft. He's submitted it right here." Samuel lifted a rolled up parchment. " I'm to proofread it, and then get it stamped for mailing."

" You mean he's going to send it?" Draco asked, incredulously.

" Well, no, not entirely. It'll sit on his desk until the moment you slip up." Samuel said, nodding sagely. " I wouldn't do as much as step a toe out of line if I were you."

" If you were me, you'd have never made it through what I had to go through." Draco hissed rudely. " Excuse me, I have some real work to do, not just stack and re-stack papers."

Samuel shook his head. Draco mocked him, shaking his head as well, as he left the room. He walked quickly into the paper sorting room and found his cubicle amidst the loud sound of owls flying here and there, delivering and leaving, and the gray fluff and feathers floating in the dusty air around him.

He exhaled deeply, sitting at his desk, and checked to see if anyone was around. Then, he slowly lowered his head so that his forehead was resting on the cool wood panel of the desk. Draco imagined it to be his father's hand. For so many years his father had guided him, hand on his head. Now he couldn't do a thing without his father and without his Lord.

Lord Voldemort, gone completely, no longer on the face of the Earth. There wasn't a shard or splinter of evidence left of him. The Dark Arts were now studied normally in class as something of history, like the Nazi times in Germany. It was no longer revered in any way, just a few lines in a textbook.

Draco's eyes squeezed shut. Was it all worth it? Was there meaning to his life, to all his training, to the Dark Mark on his upper left arm? He was marked forever as a follower of something that didn't exist. He could only wonder if it was worth all the trouble to toil away on Earth, another meaningless gray card shuffled into a deck.

Ginny was finding it hard to sit still as Draco sketched her out on the canvas board. He had explained to her that he hadn't done it in a while, so it took him some time to stretch the canvas and prepare the old withered paints that he found. The set wasn't his, it was his backup, cheaper acrylics box. His good one had been buried with his art tutor.

He looked determined, like an eagle watching fish swimming under water, just waiting to pounce, knowing what greatness he had in his grasp. He took out a sharp-pointed charcoal stick and began, creating a few circles where Ginny's hips, chest, and head were.

The silence in the room, other than the crackle of the fireplace, was overbearing. Finally, Draco began: " So, tell me, Ginny. You're an endless reservoir of advice about peasant life. What am I going to do?"

He didn't mean to make her offended in any way about the peasant comment, so Ginny let it fly by her. She did feel frustrated, still, about Draco's intolerance of Mudbloods and anyone of lesser social class than the Malfoys had once been. She said: " It would be a good step to tolerate others."

" My father rose high thanks to _not_ tolerating oth…"

" **Your father**…" Ginny cut him off. " Your father was that way because of Voldemort. It suited him. Voldemort is gone now, though. Those traits your father embedded in you would have made you powerful then, but now…" She paused, wondering how to word it best. " … now it makes you _susceptible_ to failure."

Draco was skeptical. He sketched a thick line that connected the three circles and created the arc of Ginny's backbone. He couldn't help it just then. He started drawing her shoulders, round and strong, and began to add her hair in. He liked it most.

" I haven't done this for so long…" He said, changing the subject.

" Wouldn't you rather paint someone like your mother?" Ginny asked, cocking her head.

" No, don't turn! The light pattern in your hair changed." Draco said. " Okay, a little to the left - - ah, there, that's good, sit like that."

" Your mother…?" Ginny prompted.

" No." He smiled. " I need a model who's face I didn't study and memorize since childhood. When you know someone so long, you paint them the way you know they are, not what you see."

She thought about it silently, then asked: " Why does it take you so long to trust?"

Draco looked up at her. " **_Do_** I trust you?"

She had never thought about it. She just figured he did. Immediately her cheeks suffused in a blush. " I - - I assumed you did!"

" When I went to Hogwarts, I only trusted people that were willing to be fully loyal to me. Never leave my eye."

" Crabbe and Goyle." Ginny said.

" They were completely devoted to my amusement, so I trusted them. Even they didn't know everything there is to know about me." Draco began filling in her facial features, just blurred dark lines where her eyes were, and then the smooth shadow that her nose made across her cheek. Her lips were parted lusciously, shining in the firelight. He started on them, paused, then decided to work on the neck instead.

" Who do you hate 'Mudbloods' anyway?" Ginny cringed at the word.

" They don't belong in our schools. They aren't true wizards and witches."

" No! That's not it. I'll tell you why. Parents raise their kids to believe what they tell them. All your life your parents raised you to believe that certain types of people were bad. You immediately adopted their prejudices and their enemies." Ginny though about it. In fact, that excuse was poor, because it was her own excuse about why she was raised to dislike the Malfoys and want nothing to do with them. Her entire life, her family and peers had told her not to, so she adopted their beliefs.

Draco shrugged and then filled in the detail of her clothing. " Is it possible to change someone?" He asked, softly.

Ginny nodded, and thought, '_I believe I might be seeing it before my very eyes'._


	12. Mother Dearest

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Name: LittleMaggie

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Date: November 30, 2002

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Note: I have discovered a picture that matches my vision of the Draco in this story. Check it out and then press back to return to this story. I'd like to hear any feedback in the reviews. http://digilander.libero.it/souryo/gallery/rei/rei-12.jpg 

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Chapter Twelve

Mother Dearest

Lucius lifted a trembling finger, curled tightly like an eagle talon, and then extended it towards her, as if he were trying to point at something. Ginny turned around and saw that there was nothing behind her, and immediately continued tending to Lucius. He had to be fed, which was a terrible task, since she had to strain everything past his lips, and he was very uncooperative with holding his lips open.

She couldn't believe how cold Lucius's hands were when her fingers brushed over them. Ginny took out her wand and cast a Warming Spell on the room, then settled into the rocker and held on to the half-empty oatmeal bowl. She could hear Lucius breathing softly, his eyelids closed but his eyes fluttering beneath.

" Do you want to hear a story?" She began. She knew better than to expect a response, but she did pause as if he were replying anyway, out of respect for the man's dignity. " Well, this is an old story, about a little girl that found a diary." Ginny began the story, explaining about the tricky evil force that took over the small girl.

Halfway into the introduction of the story she felt a presence in the room. Draco had slipped inside and was listening intently, waiting for her to finish but not wanting to interrupt. Ginny didn't allow this to bother her. She continued on with the story until she reached the part about how the girl opened a terrible chamber.

Draco interrupted her at this point: " So it _was_ you that did it."

Ginny nodded, embarrassed.

He looked slightly disappointed. " I wish I had the opportunity to speak in person with the Dark Lord."

" Why do you think he's so great? How do you know that he wouldn't turn on you, once he reached the top?"

" The goal was to make Muggles workers for us, our slaves in a sense. Mudbloods would be pruned away and then we'd try to replenish the wizard race as pureblood." Draco spoke as if it were a practiced speech.

Ginny was horrified. " So when you were four years old, your father would tell you about how great it would be to butcher out a race of people and enslave another? Whatever happened to bedtime stories?"

Draco looked so cold, like a puppet, when he replied: " He was our savior and hero."

" All the followers were just vessels. The Dark Lord would reach the top and turn on them. Do you think he'd share his power?"

" He would not turn on us."

" He was evil enough to." Ginny retorted. Draco couldn't argue with that.

Dinner that night was finally eaten as a family of sorts. Narcissa had joined them and Draco was early from work so he had time to dine with his mother and Ginny. Ginny let Draco and Narcissa sit at the small table and she herself ate perched at the corner of it, trying to make as little noise as possible. Narcissa looked tired and upset and Draco seemed to have had another troubling day at work.

" I saw the canvas you prepared, Draco." Narcissa said.

There was a silence, and Narcissa continued: " What will you call it, Weasley – A Peasant's Wife?"

Draco's ears burned in humility but as always he had the gift to reply in a steady tone: "It was just a warm up painting, mother."

" You could have done another family portrait. Painting some stranger, when we both know she'll be gone soon enough. Just as soon as Lucius gets better." Narcissa told him. Her eyes were a different color than Draco's, something that Ginny was beginning to notice. They were also gray, but hers were cruel eyes. Draco had sad eyes, but Narcissa's eyes looked mean and as if gray fog had clouded them.

" He won't get better." Draco's voice was paper-thin, almost as if he feared saying it.

" Nonsense." Narcissa exclaimed, and then turned her head towards Ginny, her loathing eyes looking at the air slightly above Ginny's head, just as British royalty never looked a servant in the eye. " Did you fill my son with this garbage?"

" No, madam, I…"

" Chances are, you did." Narcissa placed her knife down on the plate, aiming the tip towards her as she did. With a sniffle of undisguised distaste, she added: " I'll have you know that ever since you came here, you've had a poor influence on this household. You've replaced the healthful breakfasts with these horrid, greasy meals…" She pushed her plate aside to emphasize. " You've pushed Draco into painting again, despite the personal trauma it causes him…"

" _Mother_…" Draco began.

Narcissa thumped her hand down on the table. " _And_ you've pushed him into a complete rut, making me the enemy in this household. Do you think I don't see the way you're trying to turn him onto your side? With your silly headed ideas? My grandfather's white silk sheets are a family heirloom, my dear, and you've gotten rid of them and armed Draco's bed with those awful lavender and red ones."

" I'll dispose of them right away!" Ginny blurted out.

" No!" Narcissa hissed. " There's more. The windows, open and shut, open and shut, all over this home. Don't think I don't notice how you like your room nice and airy." She made fluttering hand motions with her fingers.

" Mother, please, this is absolutely off base…" Draco said, standing.

" Sit down!" Narcissa said to her son, her voice for the first time sharp towards him. " I've lived in this house for many a year, and we've never had a servant that so deliberately disobeyed the rules. This household was fine without you, and now it's filled with chaos."

" I was only trying to help." Ginny was in tears. 

" The best help you can do is keep your mouth shut and stay in your room until we need you." Narcissa said. " Now go!"

Ginny rose from her seat, crying with her hands pulled up to her face, wiping angrily at the hot tears that were springing from her eyes. She turned, ready to leave.

" Mother - - Ginny, listen, you're both just angry right now…" Draco was completely caught in between.

" One more thing." Narcissa said, seeing Ginny already wavering in the doorway.

" Yes?" Ginny whispered.

" Stay away from my son, you strumpet."

Ginny didn't know how long it had been since she fell onto her bed in her room, sobbing, but already the sky outside was black and the moon was vividly round between the trees. She felt her head throbbing and she sat up momentarily to grasp another clean handkerchief from the open desk drawer. Her stomach growled, she hadn't eaten, and she was also completely tuckered out.

She hadn't meant to make anyone angry. She was in fact convinced she was helping them out, but instead she had alienated herself to them. Her colorful wardrobe, cheery assortment of meals and personal preferences had been offensive to everyone and she hadn't even realized it.

" Oh, shoot." Her finger had found a hole in the front of her pastel yellow dress. Suddenly she despised it, the pretty little dress that made her hips look narrow and helped humble her bust. It was so flattering, she had worn it every chance she had, and now she wanted to rip it off and throw it out. Ginny began to tug at it and felt the buttons pop and shower down to the ground, golden little tears on the hardwood floor.

She stumbled around the room, just in her white slip and brassiere, trying to find her nightgown. It was her least cheery outfit, just a dreamy cotton candy blue, but even it was too festive for her mood. Ginny pulled it on anyway and then sat down on her bed, pulling her knees to her chest.

She was eighteen, she had always had an ambition to help people. She was good at giving advice, Hermione had often confided in her about all the little problems and errors that occurred with Harry. Perhaps that was why Ginny was so attracted to Harry in the first place – Harry was such a heroic figure, with so many problems and twists in his life. He would have always had a need for a girl that could set him right.

That girl turned out to be Hermione though, with her levelheaded no-nonsense thinking. Ginny had always been popular with boys, because she was so bright and cheery. Before she could get over Harry though it was almost too late, Harry had graduated, and she had only her seventh year. She had dated a bit, but nobody seemed right. Everything seemed like a candy land, with Voldemort gone thanks to Harry Potter, and everyone's lives back to perfect.

At least, that was what it seemed like. Then the devastating things occurred – all the followers of Voldemort were displaced, destroyed, and abandoned by the wizard society. Massive suicide tolls spiked in wizards. Other people locked themselves away, because hermits. Suddenly there was a need for nurses for the wounded. It seemed like the perfect job. By the time the year was over, everything had died down. Ginny had applied for a nurse job, but by then there were so many girls and so little jobs that a good job was impossible to find.

She thought it was a blessing in disguise when she had to come to the Malfoys. It was a challenge, a world she hadn't explored. She had her silly romantic ideas about reforming Draco, something a lot of girls had fantasized about. He was the cruel, rebellious handsome boy that always stood in the background, but it was difficult not to notice him. Yet it was all so stupid, now that she thought about it. The Malfoys were unchangeable. She could stir up some life in them, but Draco would always side with his mother in the end. 

Ginny could feel the tears that she had already shed going cold on her cheeks. She had stopped crying. She laid down slowly and faced the wall, wondering what to do. Narcissa would probably lay her off sooner or later, the moment she was in a bad mood. Draco was going to get laid off from work and he and his mother would face a honorable end instead of going out and begging. They'd probably move away, or even steal, but they'd never ask for help.

She'd simply have to keep her chin up and do her work, whatever was required of her. They couldn't break her spirit. Narcissa would like to think she had snapped Ginny in half, but Ginny felt twice as determined as ever. This was her dream – to finally truly and honestly help someone, or even a whole family, get their lives on track.

She'd have to be more careful now. No more obvious changes, instead she'd have to work in an underhanded, underground way. She'd have to talk more with Harry and find a way to mooch some more time, just to delay the inevitable.

There was work to do, and Ginny was ready for action.

Someone knocked on the door. She was already lulling into a sleep. She stood and opened it and saw that Draco was there, a good few inches taller than her. He had Ginny's dinner plate in his hands, and he had heated it up for her. " I had to wait until Mother went to sleep." He apologized.

Ginny was taken aback. " Why are you doing this?" She asked. " Oh, who cares." She took the plate from him and ate a chip from the pile on it.

He stepped inside and flicked on the light. He squinted and waited until his eyes adjusted before telling her: " I think she was just angry. She didn't really mean the things she said."

" I think she did." Ginny replied. " Thank you anyway. Unless you just came here to check out where the alcohol is?"

Draco shook his head, amused. " No, don't worry, I'm not going to lose the bet that easily."

" Hmm." Ginny looked down at her plate, remembering Narcissa's words.

" Hey. Don't take it too hard, all right? I think the food's wonderful."

" Really? No complaints at all?"

" Okay, maybe more bacon for breakfast. It's a little too hard on the stomach."

She nodded. " Of course."

" Anyway, I think airing the place out isn't such a bad idea. I'm tired of breathing the same air my great grandfathers probably breathed."

Ginny nodded, feeling her face warming.

" Plus, as I said, you bring life and color into the place. You're a good servant."

" I'm flattered."

" I won't let Mother lay you off anytime soon. I'm a terrible cook." Draco told her. " Even if you are half Weasley, and half stubborn goat."

" It's good to know." Ginny told him.

" Now for important business. Would a glass of wine count?" Draco asked. " I always have a glass after dinner."

" You're too young to be drinking." Ginny scolded. " And yes, it does count."

He shrugged. " Your loss. If you get me drunk we might end up eloping or something." He winked and left the room.

Ginny stared at the empty doorway for a minute and felt her heart thudding. It felt like a line out of her Witches in Love series. It seemed to be as if he were flirting with her. Then again, at the same time he kept referring to her, in a derogatory way, as a servant and a Weasley. '_What a character_', she thought, '_Draco is a complete joker. He's probably in his room laughing at the very moment._' Or maybe he was hinting that she was developing a crush on him?

Now she felt butterflies in her stomach. '_That's absurd, I hope he's not accusing me of something like that. Above all, it's rude to tease me about it. But I don't like him, so he's just teasing me for nothing.'_

Suddenly it was like Hogwarts all over again, and she could hear all the girls in the Gryffindor room giggling and whispering, discussing who liked who and who'd make a good couple. It was all too much for one evening and she decided to sleep and pay no mind to the voices nagging on in her head.

She'd figure things out tomorrow.

Author's Note: I have finally discovered a picture that matches my idea of Draco in this story. Please go here: http://digilander.libero.it/souryo/gallery/rei/rei-12.jpg Afterwards, feel free to comment about it in a review. 

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	13. A Cure

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Name: LittleMaggie

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Date: December 1, 2002

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Note: I have discovered a picture that matches my vision of the Draco in this story. Check it out and then press back to return to this story. I'd like to hear any feedback in the reviews. I have also found a picture of Ginny for the reader's pleasure. It is the girl on the left in this picture, if you cannot tell, it is Drew Barrymore. Just pretend her hair is 2 feet longer, but same color and texture. http://us.ent4.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/warner_brothers/home_fries/_group_photos/drew_barrymore1.jpg 

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Chapter Thirteen

A Cure

Draco was finally adding color to the portrait. He marveled at the lights and darks in Ginny's hair, asking about why her hair was so much different than the rest of the Weasleys. Draco explained that hers was richer, thicker, had more golds and browns. He never once looked at her in a romantic way, though, never blushed while facing her. His face was that of nonchalance, as if she were only a servant.

" Why are you laughing?" Draco demanded, setting down the paints.

" You look so bloody serious." Ginny told him. " As if you're at a funeral."

" Don't make me give you a mustache, Weasley." He murmured, hovering his brush over the glob of black paint on the palette.

" I'll curl into a fetal position if you keep threatening me."

Draco looked up, pushing a strand of blond hair from his face. " What's with the need for attention all of a sudden, you time hog?"

" I am _not_ a time hog." She laughed.

They always teased on and on, bickering in a friendly way. They'd poke fun at each other like dear friends and then eventually one or the other would crack up and they would grow silent, Draco immersed in the painting and Ginny studying him.

Sometimes they would venture onto topics that were a bit more sacred, but Draco would quickly change subjects or Ginny would get tired of asking and getting no reply. After a few days she did develop a particular nagging question, though.

" Are we friends?" She asked.

" Wouldn't you wish?" He replied, smirking.

" No, please, Mr. Malfoy, in all seriousness."

" Miss Weasley, you…" He fidgeted around with the red paint. " … need to comb your hair once in a while, I can see the knots all the way here."

" Malfoy!"

" A painter can't have relations with his subjects." He mused. " He'd feel guilty and paint them as gorgeous nymphs, when they're really gruesome beasts."

" Please be honest." Ginny demanded.

" I don't think we can be friends." Draco looked up. " Does that answer suit you?"

" Why can't we be friends?"

" Well, maybe we can be friends-in-training." He cocked his head to one side, gray eyes shimmering. " Not friends though. We're far too different."

" Tell me how." Ginny pressed on.

" Stop sexually harassing me, Weasley." Draco joked. " Aw, look, I drew you a third nostril by mistake."

" Then erase it." Ginny said, and continued: " Tell me, how are we different?"

" Our faiths." Draco replied harshly. " I'm a Death Eater. I have the Dark Mark branded on my arm. And you - - you _crochet _and plant flowers and help people." 

" Voldemort's gone, Draco. That doesn't count."

" Fine, it's the monetary difference."

" What monetary difference? My family might be better off than yours by now." Ginny said. " No offense or anything."

" I'm depressing and sad, you're good and friendly and warm cookies and all that. It's a villain-hero relationship, not a buddy-buddy relationship. Now for Slytherin's sake, sit still or you'll have a _fourth_ nostril." Draco still remained expressionless, eternally cool and collected.

" And what makes you sad?"

" You're not my therapist." He replied.

" Draco, let's have some honest conversations. I'm really good at giving advice, you know."

" I don't have anything. My job's crap and I'm basically all alone and tied down to this land because of my father and mother. You happy now?" He fumed.

" Well, that could be solved if we'd be friends. You'd have me."

" Why do you need any more friends? You've got a million of them!" He took in a deep breath and the unruffled, uncaring air returned, as all emotions drained from his face, leaving behind a slightly snooty smirk.

" I think you need friends more." Ginny pushed a strand of red curl from her face.

" No! Keep it there, you're messing up the shadows." Draco complained.

Ginny immediately yanked her hair back across her face, hoping that it was somewhat in the same position as before. " We aren't too different at all, you know. Maybe it's just a blend of cultures, really, that keeps us apart."

" Maybe it's my Mother."

" That too."

" Maybe it's the fact that I'd invite myself into a Harry Potter-loving family."

" You've got a point there."

" I just don't need anyone's pity or help." Draco said. " Now sit still, I'm trying to cover up your third nostril."

" I don't feel like posing anymore today." Ginny said, softly.

" Don't tell me you're angry?" He set his paintbrush down and looked up at her.

" No, not at all." Ginny admitted, smiling. " I got a letter from Lavender this morning, though, and I want to read it and write back."

" Women." He stood up and began to clean up the paint area. " Alright, go on then." He glanced up and saw that Ginny was already gone.

Ginny read the letter with amusement. Lavender didn't write very much, which was unusual, because she had the habit of writing a good few pages when the inspiration hit her. She unfolded it once again, feeling the intense scent of perfumed paper, and then read it once more:

__

Hi Ginny-kins!

Malfoy doesn't think, his parents think for him. Anyway, I don't want to write too much here. Sounds like you're having a pretty unusual time over at the Malfoy's house, I hope it's as alright as you make it sound. You better not be lying to me! Tell me if anything goes awry, I'll be right over to help you out.

Anyway, won't write much, let's just say I have a surprise for you coming up.

Lavender

She couldn't fathom what sort of surprise Lavender might be speaking of. Lavender always did have crazy ideas though, and if this was one of them, Ginny could only pray she wouldn't get in trouble.

As she walked out of her room and stepped onto the crimson red rug that ran down the Malfoy main hallway, she felt the chilly draft. Immediately, she raced down the hallway and burst into the room it was coming from. She didn't catch herself until she noticed it was Narcissa's room.

She had never been there, she wasn't allowed to approach it. Immediately, Ginny felt her body jerk backwards, but not before she took in an eyeful of the surroundings. Narcissa was lying in bed, tossing and turning, possibly because of the chilly air.

The window just to the left of her gigantic canopy bed was wide open and the curtains were blowing in violently, skimming the sheets just inches from her face. The rest of the room was like something from an old movie – the walls were hung with delicate lacy curtains and pearl-studded mirrors, the light-colored wooden floor had sheepskin rugs, there was golden trim and pearl and ivory everywhere. It was breathtakingly neutral-colored, all about a thousand shades of white, from cold grayish-white to an almost faded yellow.

" Oh." She felt her breath escaping her breast involuntarily. There was a porcelain doll collection standing on a vanity. The painted faces of the dolls and their carnival apparel reflected in the mirror, giving the illusion that there were many more of them. They all looked so festive and pretty, but at the same time haunting, their glass eyes staring hollowly at nothingness and yet seeing everything.

Ginny crept in on her tiptoes and shut the window. If Narcissa had woken up at that moment, with Ginny's hands touching the sill of the wide-open window, Ginny knew she'd fly out of their house so fast her head would spin. Thankfully, luck was on her side. Narcissa was still dozing as Ginny left the room and shut the door.

She continued on her way down the hall and then down the staircase. She headed right for the kitchen, where Draco had just finished eating his dinner. Now he was somewhere in the fireplace room, hovering near the warm flames, trying to warm himself outwardly, though he harbored so much coldness inside.

Ginny stepped inside the kitchen and gasped. Lavender was right there, looking around, unsure of where she was. " Lavender! What are you doing here?" Ginny cried, and then lowered her voice to just above a whisper: " You'll get me into so much trouble…!"

" Oh, Ginny, hush." Lavender said. " If a girl can Apparate, what's the point of never using her gift?"

Ginny felt a twinge of jealousy. She had never been able to apparate, even though it could be taught successfully to others. It was just too difficult to her, and so she had to make up for it by being extra-good in Potions and in Transfiguration.

" Lavender, listen to me. You're going to Apparate right back to your house right now, or I'll be very angry with you." Ginny threatened.

" You couldn't be angry at anyone." Lavender replied, then grinned. " Come on, I wanted to make you happy. Aren't you happy to see me, darling?"

" Of course I'm happy to see you." Ginny felt herself softening away. It was no use to be cross with Lavender.

" Good, good." Lavender looked down, her eyelashes thick with mascara. " I thought I'd see this great Malfoy mansion on my own. Where's Draco?"

" You can't see him, he'll probably tell Narcissa, and then I'm in for it!"

" Don't be so uptight." Lavender strolled out into the next room, where there was a series of photographs hanging on the walls. They mostly followed the Malfoy family from the wedding to Draco's graduation pictures. " He doesn't ever smile. You'd think it would hurt or something."

Ginny shook her head. " Is there something you have to tell me? You couldn't have come here for no reason at all."

" Fine." Lavender's red lips puckered into a pout. " I'll tell you. I ran across your brother a few days back…"

" Which one?"

" Ron, of course!" Lavender rolled her eyes. " Anyway, I ran across him in the store, and you wouldn't _believe_ how well we clicked. He's a real dear, isn't he?" Lavender pulled out her mirror and cast a wayward glance into it. " Do you think red is my color, hon?"

" It's nice." Ginny said. " Let me guess, you hooked up with him."

" You know me like a book." Lavender grinned from ear to ear and then kissed the air lightly by Ginny's cheek before continuing: " It would be just _marvelous_ if we could be sisters, don't you think?"

" Are you considering marriage already?" Ginny exclaimed. She forgot completely to keep her voice down. " I thought you were going out with Seamus, first of all!"

" That old thing? It's _over_." Lavender winked. " Ron did take me out to dinner and I had the most wonderful time. He's really charming, and I must say it was the best first date I've had in just _ages_. Which makes me wonder how come you're not seeing anyone."

" Just no time, I guess." Ginny answered.

" Just no time, I guess." Lavender mocked. " You don't want to be an old maid, trust me. Just _look_ at McGonagall, now there's a sorry sight if I've ever seen one." Lavender lifted a figurine from a shelf and then turned it around to examine the price sticker that remained underneath. " Just as I thought, it costs more than a week's worth of food."

" Lavender, as excited as I am about you and Ron, I think it's really time that you…"

Lavender stuck out her lower lip. " Kicking me out already?"

" I…"

A new voice suddenly joined into the conversation. " If it isn't the meeting of the minds."

Ginny's stomach dropped straight down to her knees as Draco walked towards them. She almost wanted to shout: _Where did you come from?_ Instead, she took a nervous glance at Lavender and began: " She – she was just leaving. Weren't you, Lavender?" Ginny nudged her in the ribs.

" Ouch! Watch your elbows." Lavender murmured. She glanced up and batted her eyelashes, taking in the full form of Draco Malfoy before them. " My! I haven't seen you in _ages_! How are you?"

__

'She can be so artificial sometimes', Ginny thought.

" I'm alright." Draco replied. He was more surprised than angry at Lavender. " What are you doing here?"

" She had to tell me something important. It really couldn't wait." Ginny stammered.

Lavender kept looking at Draco, almost as if she had forgotten how good looking he was. She pretended he had asked about how she was and said: " As for me, well… I've been busy, I'm working with Trelawney now."

" Really?" Draco said, bemused, his eyes directed at Ginny.

" Lavender, I think it's time to go." Ginny hinted.

" Oh, fine!" Lavender said, giving Ginny an angry look. " Alright, well, I'm sorry to take up your time, both of you…" She gave Draco a sexy smile. " … I've things to do, people to see." She took out her wand and Apparated. The air around her shimmered and shook like the air over a fire and then she was gone.

" How can you stand her?" Draco turned to Ginny.

" She's not that bad once you get to know… wait! Aren't you angry with me?"

" I think it's punishment enough that you have to be friends with _her_." Draco laughed. " I'm going to sleep anyway, I'm too tired to care right now."

" Uh… goodnight." Ginny said.

He ambled up the stairs and into his room. She couldn't help but feel suspicious. Draco was in an unusually enlightened mood today. Perhaps he had found her alcohol stash? But it was impossible, he was downstairs the entire time.

'_Maybe he's cheering up a little. He's cracking jokes like the old times now_.' Ginny thought. She remembered his warm attitude the night before as well, and suddenly he felt as if she might have achieved something. She had already helped slightly elevate Draco from his dark mood. It wasn't much, but it most certainly was a step of progress in the right direction. It would be a matter of time before he might allow her to be his friend. He'd be able to open up to her a bit more, perhaps get some of his problems out.

Once he's ready to face them, he'd be able to get help. It really just took that little – to admit you have a problem. Then you've already taken a step towards help, whether you like it or not.

' _I have to make sure that neither Narcissa nor Draco learn that I'm getting Harry Potter to help them out. It's too soon for them, especially for Draco. He'd be furious with me_.' Ginny only hoped that Draco would remain in such a good mood. It would most certainly pay off in the long run of things.

Positive thinking was the cure to everything, and she had told him first. It made her feel good inside. '_Now – Ron and Lavender! Now **that's** something I need to get used to!_' Ginny thought with a smile as she made her way up the staircase and to her room.

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Author's Note: I have also found a picture of Ginny for the reader's pleasure. It is the girl on the left in this picture, if you cannot tell, it is Drew Barrymore. Just pretend her hair is 2 feet longer, but same color and texture. http://us.ent4.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/warner_brothers/home_fries/_group_photos/drew_barrymore1.jpg 


	14. Remembrance

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Name: LittleMaggie

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Date: December 4, 2002

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Note: I have discovered the secret to inspiration when it comes to writing. It works wonders for me. Here is a chapter fueled by this new-found source of inspiration.

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Chapter Fourteen

Remembrance

He painted her, silently and solemnly, for another consecutive evening. It was a Friday, so Ginny would be able to go see her family the next day. She thought about that and also about what she would have to tell Harry. So far she didn't make much progress at all, Draco would probably not take the help that was offered to him. If she could only nudge closer and become his friend! Yet, by becoming close to him, she was endangering her job position, because Narcissa most certainly didn't like her.

It aggravated her that Draco referred to her as a servant, especially when she had worked twice as hard as she could to make herself seem like a friend, or maybe like one of the family.

" Oh, come on, you're frowning." Draco said, softly.

" I'm sorry." Ginny tucked her lips back into place and loosened her eyebrows.

" Is something wrong? Lavender's news maybe?" Draco asked. He looked genuinely curious, but he had probably waited in anxiety those few days so that, if he would ask, it would seem as if he hadn't originally cared and that it was a passing thought in his mind.

" No. Nothing's wrong at all." Ginny's bright smile resurfaced.

" Good then." He continued painting, eyes half-closed in thought. He turned to check the old clock on the mantle of the fireplace, which he had dragged out of his room so that he'd be able to check the time accordingly. It was already nine twenty-four in the evening, and he wanted to get some sleep because he had been meaning to give the roof a glance-over in the morning, before Narcissa woke up.

Ginny suddenly realized that she could open up and tell Draco some of her problems as well, and her thoughts and insights, and maybe even small details of her life. That way, he'd unwillingly be drawn closer to her. How could anyone reject a friendship with someone they'd know that much about? " Lavender is going out with Ron."

" Good luck to him." Draco replied and twirled his brush in the crimson paint.

" Lavender's working for Trelawney now, she really liked that class in school." Ginny continued again, hoping for a bigger answer.

" It would be awful to work for Trelawney. Every day, she'd tell you that tomorrow at noon you'll fall and break your leg, or that next week your dog will get stabbed with an ice pick." His eyes glanced over from the easel.

Ginny chuckled. " Lavender's getting better at predicting things, too, but she mostly deals with love spells and the like."

" That's all garbage." There was harshness in his tone. " Love? What's love, then, if you can buy it in a cheap bottle and spray it on yourself?"

She nodded in agreement. " I think that it's not true love, either, if you get it from a potion. You need to earn it."

Draco took out a smaller brush, one much less fierce-looking; he then loaded it with a crisp pale yellow to accent the natural highlighted areas in Ginny's hair. He seemed to have separated himself from the conversation once more. He was so skillful with it already – he could do a simple action and at the same time suggest he wanted out of a conversation. That evasiveness made Ginny continue.

" Don't you ever want to go out and meet a nice girl?" Ginny asked. " It's not fair to yourself if you limit yourself to this castle and the Ministry. You never go anywhere."

" Tomorrow I'm going shopping." Draco said.

" No, but you never take a stroll in the park, or…"

" The park? People walk their dogs all the time there, you wouldn't believe the mess those dogs leave behind."

" That was just an example. You can go to a café."

" Look, I can live _without_ a woman hanging off my arm." Draco told her.

" Women are not just for—"

" Fine then. They cook, clean, and care for children."

" That's sexist!" Ginny exclaimed.

" Your mother did all those things, right? So did my mother. They're the same. All mothers are the same." Draco replied. He paused and took in what he just said. Immediately it was weighed against the various judges in his mind, finally he added: " Our mothers aren't _really_ them same…"

Ginny was silent. Draco kept his mouth shut for a good five minutes as well, painting her in a reverent quiet that was heavy with anticipation – who'll speak next? What will they say? What sort of questions would they ask?

" I think you have a lot to offer." Ginny said, finally.

" No woman would put up with me."

" I think you're an awful pessimist." She grumbled, plucking at a string in the couch beneath her.

" I guess life teaches you things." Draco replied. He was still readily coming up with witty replies to all her statements and questions, but it was getting harder. What he really felt like doing, in all honesty, was reaching out and gently tugging on a curl and then letting it go, watching it go _twang_.

He finished her eyes, but noticed he couldn't quite picture the melting warmth that seemed to be there. Instead he made them a bit lighter, adding honey-colored tones and tiny dandelion specks. He had already finished the hair, but his brush kept returning to it, tracing over the perfect curls again, wanting to be able to watch her hair again. He didn't like staring into her eyes, that's why he got the eyes over with so quickly.

" Your hair's your nicest quality." Draco said, thoughtfully, beginning on her ears, which just barely peeked out from the curtains of red hair.

" Thank you." She raised a finger to her hair and twirled delectably, as if she had noticed it for the first time.

Suddenly, he reached out and grasped the curl, not daring to resist the temptations any longer. He looked at it, slowly spreading the hairs apart so they stood out individually on the frail pink pads of his fingers. Strong red streaks, powerful dark ones, the occasional dash of gold. He looked up at her again and saw her face was crimson.

" Can I…?" He asked, a bit too late.

Ginny nodded.

He stood up and sat down beside her, slowly weaving his fingers through her hair, not touching the hair by her face or by her neck, but rather grasping it where it fell loosely on the back of the love seat.

Ginny reached behind her head and then split her hair into two, as if she were going to make two ponytails. She gathered the half closer to Draco's in a bunch and then presented it to him. " Hand's-on experiment, I suppose?" She asked.

He began to braid her hair, shadows were moving across his face, deepening him into a pit of remembering. " When I was little, I'd braid my mother's hair." He said, finally, staring at the finished braid before him. He looked sorry to see it end so quickly. " Then she fell off the stairs, the doctor had her cut her hair short so he could stitch her neck."

" Oh! That's awful! I'm sorry!" Ginny whispered. Suddenly, she added: " I used to comb my mother's hair, too."

They looked into each other's eyes again. There was something Draco wasn't telling her. " Is something wrong?" She asked.

He nodded, finally. " I suppose you'd yank it out of me anyway. My - - my mother, she was with child when she fell, and she lost it. It was a stillbirth… it was already the sixth month." Draco looked sorrowful. " I was seven."

" I'm very sorry." Ginny could only say, suddenly feeling ashamed of her plentiful siblings.

" She couldn't get with child for a long time, and afterwards they tried, but they couldn't." Draco told her. " I suppose that's why they spoiled me so much." His eyes were so sad, the glazed shell of nonchalance stripped off. " I… I have to go." He stood, her braid falling to her side again.

" Good night." Ginny called after him. He turned and replied:

" You too."

*

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Flashback

Draco

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They had retreated, Voldemort and Lucius working closely together, their movements liquid and coordinated. Draco could see them across the room now, all of them hiding in an old abandoned shop in Hogsmeade, the ruins of it, where wand-to-wand combat and powerful spells had eroded the walls and destroyed entire buildings. In this abandoned old place, filled with dirt, the air heavy with gray dust, they talked.

Their voices were soft and low. Draco sat with the other Death Eaters, his hood pulled up tight, his eyes flashing in the dark shadows of the room. He didn't like to admit his fright. Voldemort could sense it though, Voldemort could sense his fear and his cowardice, right through his robe. This made his heart ache – his hero, his savior, in a time where he needed Draco most – Draco was scared.

A winner to the battles was hard to predict, since both sides suffered losses and gains. The Death Eaters were so well equipped with the Dark Arts that one death eater could match with five ordinary wizards. Yet, the Death Eaters had once walked down the streets in a giant eerie parade, now it was more of a huddled, thinning crowd. People were in a frenzied panic though. Hospital staff was overworked, there was a calling for nurses.

Draco sensed it first. It was a feeling similar to the hairs rising on his spine, or his leg falling asleep – someone was coming. " My Lord…" He began.

Voldemort turned, his red glowing eyes directed at Draco. " I sense him. Potter." His voice was a snake-like hiss. The voice alone was enough to make Draco feel as if invisible hands were choking him with a fury.

" Cast some spells to keep them out. Meanwhile we'll work on an attack." Lucius, the brave leader, was naturally someone the others looked up to. Draco felt a warm respect to him.

Harry Potter and his group were working on counter curses. It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours. The time crawled so slowly that it was hard to tell. The heartbeat in Draco's ears thundered quickest of all, like an avalanche of boulders, and he hated it. The others could sense it now from him too, he could bet. He was still young though, a young Death Eater was still mentally weaker than the others.

Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Lupin, and Dumbledore burst in. They were all on one team, led my Harry. While the Death Eaters chose to be in one big group together, following Voldemort blindly, the opposing side had chosen to split into small, efficient sections. Draco felt his fists clench as Harry Potter emerged through the door as well, slightly out of breath.

The Death Eaters surged forwards. Afterwards, it was a crazy battle of spell after spell. Voldemort was the most powerful. He turned on Lupin first, sensing Lupin's extraordinary powers in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Voldemort's spindly, thin fingers extended his wand and that raspy breath filled the room. Lupin fell to the floor, shaking horribly, his eyes wild. He was weak already though, his leg was wounded.

Draco smiled. **Victory**.

" Stop!" Sirius Black, the fallen criminal-returned-as-hero, lunged at Voldemort with his wand aimed. Everything froze – it was a brave attack, to throw oneself straight at Voldemort.

Lucius pulled back and the Death Eaters did as well. Hermione grasped Ron while Dumbledore's brow knitted, submerged in deep thought as to whether help Sirius or to aim for the safety of the larger group. Finally, Dumbledore stood as backup, his wand raised as well.

Sirius made some attempts at spells, but Voldemort was too quick, too efficient. One had to have a mind of a killer to be so smooth-operating. Draco felt an explosive delight fill him as his Lord shouted another spell. Sirius fell to the floor. It was Avada Kedavra, everyone knew.

Nobody moved. Then, Harry screamed: "No!"

Hermione had tears rolling down her face. The Death Eaters had circled the group of attackers, Draco lingering in the back. Lucius was up in front, Voldemort led front-and-center. Harry knelt down beside Sirius's body and then looked up with a murderous fury in his eyes.

Draco still hated himself for reacting as slow as he did. Before a blink or a breath could be taken, Harry's robes were billowing around him and a strange glow was surrounding him. The Death Eaters shrunk back, afraid.

Lucius remained in position, turning and staring at the crowd angrily. " Cowards! Attack! It's a trick!" He spat.

Voldemort was stunned, everything in the room froze literally this time. Draco's legs felt like deadweights, he couldn't move. The white aura snaked around their legs, like two-ton chains made of feathery clouds. Hermione hissed something under her breath, Ron was saying things too. They were channeling their powers to fuel Harry's. Even Dumbledore was doing it. They were all working together, a charming organized group.

Harry was now in such an overbearing anger that the aura around him surged and spiked like a convulsing tornado, the power tightening around them. Draco wanted to scream, but they couldn't scream. What was this power? What was this – Love? What sort of ridiculous trick!

Draco glanced at his father again. Lucius and Voldemort were both standing within arm's reach from Harry. Hermione broke away from the group and began casting spells on the Death Eaters, one by one tying them up in chains, all packaged and ready for Azkaban.

Harry and Voldemort had been in combat before, but Voldemort had won, leaving Harry wounded. There was a retreat by the Death Eaters afterwards though. Now Harry was fighting with a strange and alien power. His force was fueled by his emotions.

Voldemort was casting his own aura now. It was a snake-like black cloud, and it was slowly working its way through the white glow that Harry had made. Draco could feel the chains on his feet waver from heavy to light. They were all jerking around, making a step and then suddenly being pulled back again. The constant shifts in power in the room were causing a terrible pulsating pain inside Draco's head. He could see that the others had it too, and even the enemy.

Draco trembled, shrunk back, letting the white force pull him back a few more steps. He could feel Voldemort's voice buzzing in his ear, Coward. Attack.

Draco raised his wand slowly, he aimed and then shouted a counter-curse, something simple – Stupefy. A black hole was punctured in Harry's aura just over Harry's head.

Lucius shouted: " Potter will fall today!"

Lucius then charged forwards, using the momentary lapse in the white chains around him to attack Harry Potter. Draco ran forwards too, but out of an instinct to grab his father and yank him backwards. There was something wrong in the air. Harry was just standing there, his eyes blank, his body glowing. He looked as if he were fading away.

Then, Harry turned his head, his eyes taking on a murderous red glow to them, and his eyes were directed at Lucius, not Voldemort. There was a loud sound, the sound of slicing, as if a giant knife had split through the room. The whiteness grew overbearing. It filled the entire room, and all Draco could see was a sharp light, as if he were looking directly at the sun.

Then, the white died away. He felt all his power had been drained. Draco fell to his knees, his body made of lead. Draco looked down and saw his father lying there beside him. Lucius's eyes had rolled back into his head. There were rivulets of blood escaping his eyes and nostrils, and a frothy crimson liquid flowed from his mouth.

Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. The other Death Eaters were lying on the floor as well, spent of their powers. And there was Harry, staring at what he had just done. Harry wavered on his knees and collapsed, falling backwards into Hermione and Ron's arms.

Everything was in slow motion again. Draco put his hands down in his father's hair and slowly lowered his head to Lucius's forehead. He could hear the faint whisper of his breath against his own hairline. His tears fell into the blood and diluted it, as he choked out: " Dad…?"

*

Draco woke up, his fingers shooting to his lips, the echo of his scream still in the room: "DAD!"

He jumped from his bed and yanked on his robe and raced downstairs. He went into the kitchen and began to prepare a cup of coffee for himself. His hands shook desperately as he pressed the mouth of the cup to his lips, sighed, and lowered it sown. His head ached again, and he sat down and held it, taking in slow breaths.

Then, he stood again and yanked open the so-familiar cabinet just by the doorway, pillaging through it, hoping to find a trace of alcohol. He found nothing and immediately remembered his silly bet with Ginny. Suddenly he wished he could have just swallowed his pride for one moment.

" Mr. Malfoy?"

He looked up. Ginny was standing in the doorway.

He shook his head and looked down. " I'm looking for sugar. For… for the coffee."

Ginny looked scared. " You're trembling. Are you sure you're okay?"

He nodded and quickly turned away from her, avoiding her eyes. He feared having her read him like a book, taking a look in his eyes and seeing what he had seen. He was in a cold sweat.

" Well, I – I'm going to go visit my family today." Ginny said, slowly, as if she were talking to someone completely irrational.

" Goodbye." Draco told her, his eyes meeting hers as she was leaving. She could see it – that pain that was reawakened inside. She put her hand on his arm, trying to comfort him, but he jerked his arm away.

" Leave." He whispered.

Ginny didn't dare disobey his command.


	15. Trust

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Name: LittleMaggie

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Date: December 11, 2002

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Note: It certainly took a while, but this chapter was difficult to piece together. I had to play it just right so that what I wanted to say was the last line, a bit of a hook for you reviewers. :-)

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Chapter Fifteen

Trust

It was late Saturday night and Ginny was still awake, thinking about Draco. Something terrible had happened overnight, but she couldn't imagine what. Her eyes searched the finger-like shadows on the ceiling for an answer, as the trees outside her window swayed and their shadows scraped their fingers across the white of the ceiling.

Her stomach growled angrily. Draco had meant to go shopping with her that day, but he'd been in a sort of depressed daze all day. She couldn't figure out what could bring out this demon in him so quickly, snapping him from an almost joyous mood into possessed, frightening anger. She'd ended up eating with Narcissa, which was worse than eating alone, with Narcissa's cold eyes staring at her angrily.

She could hear her door slowly creak open and she stayed extremely still, almost catching her breath in her breast. Her eyelids quivered as she tried to peek through the tiny slits she allowed her eyes see through. Narcissa was in the doorway, her pale aquamarine robe drawn crookedly around her, the buttons in front done all wrong. She had been in a hasty hurry.

Ginny felt her heart rise into her throat worriedly. Narcissa was turning, looking around her room, her face covered in shadows. Ginny couldn't be sure where Mrs. Malfoy's eyes were directed, for she couldn't see them beneath Narcissa's curtain of silver-streaked hair.

Narcissa stepped up to Ginny's desk, her fingers pressing down on the papers there and spreading them apart. One of Narcissa's hands landed on the sill of the window, feeling the parapet, then she tugged it up lightly. She was checking if Ginny had locked her window, Ginny guessed.

Narcissa then seemed to leaf through the papers on Ginny's desk, letting out a low grumble. Then, she turned and stared into the closet area of the room, as if expecting to see something there. Ginny could feel her heart thudding heavily – the alcohol was all stashed in there! Narcissa would think she was stealing from them!

Mrs. Malfoy didn't seem to concern herself very much, she let out a tired sigh and left the room, wobbling slightly on her feet. The sleeping potions must have wrecked some havoc on her nerves, to keep her awake so late at night – or perhaps so early in the morning would be more appropriate a phrase.

It was a Sunday now, and Ginny and Draco were both going to go to the market in Diagon Alley to purchase some food. The light bled through her eyelids as she tried to debate whether to risk faking illness and staying in bed, or risk real danger to her physical wellbeing by going with Draco.

Ginny stood from her bed and folded the sheets delicately before she got herself dressed in a plain pale mint green dress. As a last touch, Ginny pulled her hair back in a yellow barrette. She turned to the doorway and walked out, down the staircase, and eventually into the kitchen.

Draco was already there, sitting on a chair, lacing up his black boots. " Are you ready?" He asked, glancing over her outfit.

" I'm ready." She said.

Draco stood and took out his wand. " We'll Apparate to Diagon Alley. They have a huge Market Sale there today."

" Oh." Ginny felt color rushing to her cheeks. " Can't we walk? It's so lovely outside."

His eyes met hers, the coal black pupils in the middle of the ashen irises seemed to look right through her and examine her thoughts. " You don't know how to Apparate."

" So what if I don't?" Ginny asked, testily. She wasn't in a very good mood for joking about it. She had been humiliated many times in front of the graduating seventh grade class because of it.

" We can use Floo powder then." Draco suggested.

" Alright." Ginny nodded. " We'll do that."

The market place was a burst of color, smells, and sights. People were everywhere, mostly older women and servants. It was a Sunday, and a lot of wizards slept late, and the workers of their family went out to get things from market. Ginny took in a deep breath and felt her nose fill with the scent of cinnamon.

" Ah, you like it?" A lady nearby said, lifting a jar of cinnamon sticks. " It fills the room with the scent."

" It's lovely." Ginny replied, halting in front of the cart.

The lady took a step back, seeing who was accompanying Ginny to market. The tall, slim young man with the slightly far away look to him was none other than Draco Malfoy. Even out to market he wore a handsome blue suit and an elegant overcoat atop it.

Draco darkened, seeing the look of surprise that spread from the cinnamon stick cart over to the neighboring carts. Soon half the market seemed to be secretly eyeing them. Though haggle and business continued, it did so in a reserved and suspicious manner, as eyes darted to the odd couple.

" Over here, please!" A woman was calling them to her cart.

" Do you know her?" Draco asked Ginny. She felt his breath against her ear and it made her uncomfortable. She ducked her chin into her yellow scarf and shook her head no.

They stopped in front of the woman's cart. She slowly slid the giant kerchief off her display case. In it, rows and rows of glistening engagement rings and wedding rings were shelved according to the stone or metal. The woman eyed Ginny over thoughtfully and asked Draco: " Is this what the Malfoys have been busy over in their mansion?"

Something incredibly icy seemed to fill Draco's voice: " She works for me." His tone was absolutely frigid.

Ginny added, feeling put down: " He's introducing me to the responsibilities of the Malfoy household. I'm sort of a… a trusted caretaker of their house."

"Ah." The lady glanced down at her rings again, then pestered on: " Oh, please, are you sure you're not expecting any sort of romance in the future?" She winked at Draco. " The ruby and gold one with the diamond inset is _very _popular for young ladies…"

Draco bristled. "… With a Weasley?" He scoffed. " That would be the day." He walked off, giving Ginny a short look-over to see if she was following. Ginny had no other choice but to do so.

There was another cart nearby, which was laden with spices. Draco took some sugar and placed it into the basket Ginny held. Ginny was engrossed in the strings of red pepper hanging from the little ceiling of the cart. " These things are awful spicy. They can make or break a chili."

Draco looked at her. " Would you make it? Chili, I mean?"

" Sure I would."

" We'll take a string of the peppers." Draco said to the old man running the cart. Draco flipped the price tag over on the string of peppers. The price was astoundingly high – equal to about a hundred normal peppers.

" I couldn't - -" Ginny exclaimed.

Draco shrugged. " I'll buy it anyway." He placed it in the cart and then handed over a handful of coins to the vendor. They moved away from the cart.

" Well, now I don't know how to thank you." Ginny admitted. Her face was flushed.

" You can begin by keeping your delight at bay." Draco glanced over his shoulder. A good forty faces turned away from his back. " These old biddies are going to let their tongues fly the second we leave the market."

After browsing around a while longer, filling their basket with food, they headed to Gringotts, where Draco said he wanted to deposit his weekly paycheck. As they turned the street, they heard a quick hush and then an explosion of murmurs and angry whispering behind them. Draco gave Ginny a knowing look and they headed for Gringotts.

As they burst through the glass doors of the bank a goblin approached them. " Ah! Mr. Malfoy, you've finally decided to come?"

" Pardon?" He asked, finally.

" We've sent people from the Recollections department before but they were greeted by the housekeeper…" The goblin saw Ginny, quivering like a leaf behind Draco. " …ah! Pardon, I didn't know you had a lady with you."

Draco shook his head. " You can speak in front of her. What seems to be the problem?"

" Ah… come with us, sir." The goblin said, finally, a bit strained. They moved into the safe-house entrance, where they sat down in a cart. The goblin closed the giant door and they rolled down the winding tunnel and eventually they stopped in front of the Malfoy safe.

" Your account is terribly overdrawn already." The goblin said, clambering out of the wagon and slowly unlocking the safe. " Your father didn't really look to the future, did he? He barely deposited any savings. He lived in the today." The goblin blinked in distaste. " Should I escort the lady up to the waiting room?"

" It's fine, I want to see the safe." Draco insisted.

The goblin took the meager satchel of money Draco handed him and then pulled open the metal door of the safe. " This won't even cover a quarter of what the Malfoys already own." The goblin warned them both. He placed the tiny sack down in the center of the safe and then walked out again, his short stubby legs rushing quickly beneath him.

" Most of your money goes for property tax, Mr. Malfoy." The goblin muttered angrily. "I'm afraid we'll have to take your mansion next."

Ginny looked at Draco. Not a shard of emotion seemed to pass over his tranquil expression. There was something martyr-like about his stance, as he stood there, drawn tall, his back straight, his chin held high and his eyes straining painfully to keep them nonchalant. " I suppose that's it then. Thank you."

The goblin nodded. " Damn you Malfoys." He muttered on to himself, setting the cart again so that it would go backwards and to the top. As they sped away into the darkness of the tunnel, Ginny caught a last flicker of Draco's face before darkness set in. He was wiping away an angry tear.

They were walking home this time, thoughtfully. They had opted to walk and enjoy the countryside, though so far it was mostly bitter silence and the loud sound of their feet crunching through the red and yellow leaves that carpeted the ground.

Draco suddenly turned to Ginny. He acted to abruptly she froze in her place, wondering if he'd attack her. " I'll be realistic here, we can't afford the mansion anymore." Draco said, his eyes cold as stone. He wasn't in the least bit in the mood for friendly negotiations. He was in a murderous rage inside, she could see it.

" It would be for the best." Ginny said.

" Hell, it won't." Draco resumed walking and she rushed after him in her heels. " My mother would never allow us to rent an apartment. Nobody else can know about how pathetic we've become. _No one at all_." He clenched his fists angrily.

Ginny suddenly felt an idea dawn in her. She could see how tense and absolutely furious he was, and she wanted to do something, anything to relieve his anger. " You can stay with my family." The weight of her words hit her just then. She mumbled on, feeling obligated to, now that she brought it up: " I… I mean, Bill, Charlie and Percy are all living elsewhere, and Fred and George just moved into the spare bedroom over the store. There's plenty of room now."

" Oh, no…" He paled so heavily that even his lips were a diluted pinkish-white. " I couldn't do that."

" It wouldn't be a problem…"

" It would be a problem for **me**!"

Ginny walked silently, kicking the leaves around. The brief flashes of still-green leaves were rare now. December was nearing, any day now it would snow. Usually they had snow this late into fall already.

Draco sighed. " I'm sorry. I didn't want to offend you or anything, but there's one thing certain – a Malfoy doesn't sink to those levels."

" Those levels?" Ginny cried. Her cheeks were hot and her eyes glossy with tears. She felt insulted beyond normal hurt. " Don't you _get it_? You're worse off than my family's EVER been!"

He looked down at his feet, staring at the tumble of colors beneath him.

" Not only that, but you're so depressed – you need rest." Ginny added, to show a professional concern for Draco.

He was silent.

They kept walking. Ginny's long yellow scarf danced around them, like a snake awakened by a snake charmer. It whipped and twirled in the intense wind.

" I can consider it." Draco said. " I don't have any other options, do I?"

" Trust…"

" Narcissa won't like it, though." Draco continued.

" Trust me." Ginny tried again. " It won't be so bad."

He looked at her. " I'll trust you."

It was late evening again. Ginny had just finished feeding Lucius and afterwards she joined Draco in the kitchen to drink tea. Draco was writing a letter to Crabbe and Goyle again. Ginny hadn't even found time to reply to Lavender, though she didn't know what there was to say without betraying the Malfoy secrets.

Draco glanced up at her. " How do you spell 'ineffable'?"

" I…n…e…f…f…a…b…l…e…"

He nodded in thanks and scribbled the word down.

A series of angry crashes and thumps sounded upstairs. Draco pretended not to hear, but Ginny stood up. " What is that?"

" I don't know." Draco replied.

" It's not Mr. Malfoy, he's… he's secured to the bed."

" Just forget it."

" What was it?" Ginny headed upstairs. " What if it's the fool that's opening all our windows? I most certainly want to…"

Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her back into her seat.

" What are you doing?" She exclaimed.

" Sit still for more than a few seconds, will you?" He whispered hotly to her. " Just stay here."

The thumping upstairs came again, this time really loud. Draco was reddening in embarrassment. Suddenly, the sound of windows getting pulled open. Ginny stared at Draco, wide-eyed. " You know who it is! How could you not tell your mother?"

He shook his head. " You don't know what you're dealing with here."

" Tell me." She demanded.

Draco sighed. " There's no point getting you concerned."

" I'd like to know who's being so rude as to frame me daily, opening the windows like an idiot." Ginny told him crossly.

Draco folded his hands together. " All right, but don't say I didn't warn you…" He took an unsteady breath into his breast before continuing: " Well, you see, my mother… she has a somnambulatory problem."


	16. The Coward

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Name: LittleMaggie

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Date: December 18, 2002

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Note: Debated and debated over how much to show and how much to leave for later, when it comes to this chapter. I certainly hope you like it, and please review. Oh and one more thing, I am moving towards the ending now, but that doesn't mean it's anytime soon. I think there's at least 5 chapters more planned out, and I didn't even plan out the ending chapters.

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Chapter Sixteen

The Coward

It had been two weeks now. Narcissa still sleep walked, even more so, but Ginny and Draco rested assured, knowing what was causing it. Everything made sense now to Ginny – the opening windows, Narcissa's love for sleeping tonics, even the mysterious affair of Narcissa stumbling into Ginny's room every once in a while. Ginny sat silently on the love seat in the fireplace room, staring expressionless at the space over Draco's left shoulder, thinking about all these things.

When he painted, he rarely liked to talk. It was his own little world that he entered, just his paintbrush and him and the easel, and nobody had any right to pass that invisible circle around him. She had nothing to do these long evenings, so she ended up observing him right back. She would watch his face, which wasn't entirely as handsome as it was regal, the type of face you'd expect from a prince. He was blonde, but it wasn't a dishwasher sort of blonde. It was extremely white-blonde, frail, like the tinsel on a Christmas tree. Its color reflected the flames in the fireplace, giving it a reddish glow this evening. She had to admit she liked his face, it wasn't all too angry when he was relaxed and painting.

" What are you working on now?" Ginny asked him.

He looked up at her, a flash of vivid eyes that locked on hers and held for a good few seconds before he replied: " Your collar."

She looked down out of the corner of her eye at the expanse of white lace. Suddenly she wished to smoothen the wrinkle in it, to tuck the loose string beneath it. She could almost feel his eyes burning into the skin of her neck.

" Did you finish my hair?"

" Didn't you look at it?"

" A bit, but you always set it up against the wall, so I didn't get much of a glimpse."

" Your hair's done." He twirled his brush through his fingers like a skilled cheerleader might twirl a baton, then he caught himself and continued to streak paint across the canvas. " It's still not as real-looking as yours really is."

Ginny shrugged. " I don't think it has to look just like me. That's where the charm of painting lies."

He stood and turned the painting so it was facing her. Ginny took in a sharp breath as the full beauty of the painting was revealed to her. Draco had painted her as if she were some gorgeous goddess of fire, her hair real spun flames and gold, twirling and spilling like lava, lusciously bright and thick. Her eyes were large and hauntingly realistic, with every freckle and speck of light reflected in them. Her skin was awash with alabaster and tinted yellow glow, as if she were indeed sitting before a fireplace. The Ginny in the painting gazed beckoningly at the viewer, as if she had thousands of stories to tell.

" Do you like it?" He asked.

" It's gorgeous!"

" It's not done yet. The crushed velvet doesn't look real." Draco mused, his brush adding another tiny stroke of red through Ginny's hair. He stood and sat down on the couch beside her, looking at the painting from far away too. She watched his face, as he raised his eyebrows, his eyes growing into narrow slits as he pondered the painting over in his mind. She could see his eyes, and they didn't look gray in the firelight. They took on a lucid blue color, as if all the ash and all the clouds had been swept away and he was looking at something with a naked eye, like a baby first observing an object. Nothing clouded his mind; he looked like a sphinx, eternally knowing.

" You made me beautiful." Ginny whispered gently.

Draco didn't know how to reply. His eyes moved to his knees, she couldn't see them through his eyelashes when he was looking down. " I painted what I saw." He said, finally.

" I didn't mean it in a bad way."

" I didn't take it in a bad way." He glanced up at her. There was something about his eyes, something stripped about them. " I think your hair's really beautiful."

She nodded. " Isn't it the same as Ron's, or Fred's, or…?"

" No." He exclaimed sharply, cutting her off. His ears darkened slightly. " You're… your hair is different. It's not the same thing. _You're _different."

Ginny sighed. " I'm not that different from them. You got to know me, maybe that's why you accept me. If you got to know the rest of my family…"

" There's more about you." Draco said. " It's so easy to paint you, because there's atmosphere and feeling and mood projected by everything that makes you up."

" What do you mean?"

" The tilt of the nose – it's optimistic." He grinned. " Your freckles, they're your goofy side."

" Oh, gee, thanks." She kidded.

" Your hair's like a corona." Draco glanced at the easel forlornly. " It's like a fire coming out of you. You changed a lot about our house. It's like I'm ready to fix things."

" Well, I'm glad…"

" In fact, I realize that I'm fixing things instead of ruining things." Draco admitted. " Like selling the house. It's been in our family so long, but there's just no way…" He shook his head.

Ginny patted his hand, unsure.

" I think my mom needs help too. But most of all, I guess I need help." Draco took in a wavering breath. " With my job, and all. And I guess I sort of caught on to the whole alcohol bit you had running."

" I guess you can have an occasional glass." Ginny tried to cheer him up, for suddenly Draco's thoughts about fixing his broken self made him descend into a dark, depressed mood.

He smiled. " It's easier talking to you than I first thought it would be. When you told me you were who you were, I just…" Draco shrugged. " I thought you'd be completely annoying. A total ignoramus."

" Maybe I'm just a little annoying." Ginny murmured.

" I guess you've seen your share of insanity here, right?" Draco asked.

" I don't think I'd trade the time I had here for time at home." Ginny told him. " It feels really good to be able to see things changing."

" It feels really bad inside me though." Draco huddled his head in his hands. " It's like I'm selling my family out, you know. Like I'm basically pawning everything we've stood for all this time just to get out of a small little rut."

" It's not a small little rut, trust me. And I think you're doing the best thing for your family. Maybe people will talk for a little but…"

" … but they'll forget it in the end." Draco finished. " I hope so, anyway."

" I won't let anyone know you're staying at my house."

" I hope so."

" That's a nice word to hear from you. Hope."

Their eyes met again. He seemed so close and yet so far, an invisible veil cascading over him again, like an impenetrable wall through which neither true feelings nor thoughts could escape. " I really do think you're beautiful." He told her, softly. " Ever since I saw you sleeping way back, I wanted to paint you."

She blushed. " I'm really flattered. I really am." She was speaking softer and softer, as if she were growing unbelievably shy before his very eyes. Draco had to lean in closer to hear her. "I guess you're pretty good looking too."

" In that Malfoy way." He added.

Ginny laughed. " You could try smiling more."

" Smiling? What's that?" His eyes, his face, suddenly Ginny couldn't see anything besides him, everything suddenly and instantly catching her attention about him. She saw the misplaced strand of hair that had fallen from his orderly and controlled hairdo; the gentle, nearly nonexistent breeze in the air that his batting eyelashes stirred.

Before she knew it, her lips had met his, and at first it felt strange, as if someone was trying to put two odd puzzle pieces together. Afterwards it all fell into place, the kiss very light and airy and in a nanosecond Draco had pulled back. Ginny realized she couldn't remember who'd started the kiss, all she could remember was the odd magnetic force that suddenly pulled her towards him, and him to her.

He let out a soft breath that she felt against her chin, then suddenly reality crashed through him, like an icicle through the heart. " Oh, no…" Draco whispered, a stricken expression crossing his face. " What have I done?" He looked so regretful that if someone were to walk in at that very moment, you'd think he had just killed someone.

He stood to his feet, dazed. Ginny took his hand, trying to hold him back. Draco turned and ran a hand through his hair. " I'm sorry." He said, finally. " I don't know… what….I don't really… I really don't have any feelings for you, I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me."

Ginny nodded finally. " I understand." She could also feel the painful icicle, edging its way into her heart. She felt like a whore now, like a simple outlet for a man's emotions, and then at the end of the day she'd lie down in her bed alone. Worse than alone, really – lonely. She pulled her knees up to her chest, her face burning. " I completely and utterly understand, and I feel really sorry for you." 

She rushed out of the room, her heart rocking inside her angrily. Maybe he did care for her, maybe he was lying about his feelings. He was a coward though. After a kiss, to tell a girl something like that! Whether it was true or not, it was cowardice, or worse, he was inconsiderate and insensitive. _I don't care at all, though_. _I really don't have any feelings for you, either, Draco, so there._

Then why did she feel as if a rainbow had shattered into a thousand pieces in her stomach, and all the jagged edges were fluttering, trying to escape?

That night Ginny heard a low cry from Lucius's room. She jumped out of her bed and ran into his room. He was tossing and turning under the covers, his eyes closed. He was having some sort of dreadful nightmare, perhaps. Ginny ran towards the bed and took out the small bottle of medicine that was in the drawer.

Her hand shook in the dark as she filled a spoon with it. She used her fingers to slowly pry apart the dry lips of the man. He moaned and his breath rattled in his throat. Ginny tipped the spoon into Lucius's mouth and the murky brown liquid slid past the ghost's thrashing tongue and down his esophagus.

" Good night, sir." She whispered to him, and readied to leave, when she felt cold fingers wrap around her wrist. " Oh!" She gasped, and spun around on her heels.

Draco was standing behind her. " Come with me… trust me." He whispered to her.

Ginny wanted to yank her hand out of his and then slap him well. He had no right to just come up on her like that, not after what had happened. Yet, her stomach and her heart and her brain were all telling her something else and her body just followed its instincts, ignored the wash of turmoil going through her, and followed Draco.

" I guess it's time to show you something." Draco was saying.

Ginny couldn't quite understand where he was taking her until she saw the stone gargoyle. Draco tapped his wand on the gargoyle and he made it disappear completely, saying: "No use leaving it here, since we're scheduled to move out tomorrow."

Ginny followed him up to the North Wing, where he entered the Forbidden Room. She crept inside as well. Inside, it was much darker than even the cryptic hallways of the mansion. Her eyes finally found the moonlit patch of light on the floor. There was a window through which it was cast – the single window, and it was barred like a jail cell.

The room was filled with bookshelves, at least as far as she could tell. Then when her eyes adjusted, she gasped. There were torture devices hanging on the walls, weapons, jars and jars of forbidden ingredients to use for spells. The bookshelves were stuffed with books about the Dark Arts. Poisons crowded the shelves as well.

She looked at Draco's face. He seemed to be remembering.

Then, at the edge of the room, framed in glass, were two Death Eater uniforms. Ginny shrank back and stood in the light, shivering. " My God…" She whispered.

Draco turned to look at her, standing out in the shadows. His nose and face was illuminated though. " I had my lessons here, from my father. Every summer, I'd be taught here. We'd often have Death Eater meetings in here, too."

Ginny nodded.

" Are you scared?" He asked her.

She nodded again.

" Don't be." Draco told her. " It's dead now. The Dark Arts are a dead practice."

" It's still terrible." Ginny couldn't bring herself to even glance at the large Dark Mark on the Death Eater robes.

" I learned how to do really terrible things in here." Draco told her. " You know, sometimes the Death Eaters would capture Muggles and torture them to death. We did that in here, sometimes. I had to do that, for initiation. Be able to initiate torture, I mean."

Ginny was breathing heavily. " You… you did that?"

Suddenly there was something devil-like to him, suddenly the tilt of his eyebrows mocked the tilt of the devil's horns, and his grim frown turned into a malicious sneer.

" I had to." Draco told her. " I didn't even feel it was wrong. I didn't… I didn't think about it as giving someone pain. I thought about it as making myself stronger."

" That's disgusting." Ginny choked out, backing up further towards the wall, the moon lighting her up. " That's… that's just sick."

Draco walked towards her, his eyes shimmering with tears. " I've been thinking about it a lot. Believe me, I regret some of this stuff now. It's not like I was proud of _everything_ we did."

" Do you still think of it as some sort of power-gaining?" Ginny demanded.

" No."

" Tell me the truth." She said hotly, tears burning in her eyes.

" I promise." He took her hands. His fingers were ice cold. " I do regret it. Okay, I did believe in it before you came here, but I swear, I've been thinking a lot of things over. The way my father died, Voldemort in general…"

" Draco…"

" I'm a coward." He whispered. She could see in the shadows of his face a single string of light as a glowing pale blue tear drop slid down his cheek. " I was scared to defend Voldemort, but I kind of understand now. I was scared of him, I was scared of my mission."

Draco slowly unbuttoned his shirt and slid the arm of his shirt down, revealing his shoulder. The Dark Mark was scarred into him. " I was a Death Eater. I was there when Sirius died, I saw it all."

" Tell me about it." Ginny said, finally. She reached out and traced her hand over the scar on his shoulder. His skin was warm, surprisingly, unlike his hands, which were like pieces of ice. "I want to hear about it."

" Are you sure?" Draco asked. " I'm still haunted by it."

" The more I know about you, the… the more I can understand."

" I'm sorry, though. About… before." Draco whispered. " I am a coward."

" A coward dies a thousand deaths, the brave but one." Ginny mouthed the phrase, and then shook her head. " Your mother's been coming into here."

" She'd come here and still practice Dark Arts spells. Well, she didn't have her wand, so she couldn't do anything, but she'd go about prancing in here. In the morning I'd find the spell books open and the ingredients all mixed out." Draco told her. Suddenly, he smiled. " Telling you this makes me feel good, though, to see you scared of me. I'm terrible, aren't I?"

" No." Ginny lied.

" A terrible coward." He hissed to himself. " I know it and I'll change it. You'll see."

Ginny sighed. " I hope."

He took her hands. " I hope so too."


	17. Worlds Collide

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Name: LittleMaggie

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Date: December 20, 2002

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Note: Posting quickly after the other one, after many new reviews – thank you! – and so, here is chapter seventeen! I want to remind my readers that I would be flattered if you joined www.harrypotternovel.com or groups.aol.com/clubdrac both groups I am a serious member in!

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Chapter Seventeen

First Collision

Ginny had a bit of a secret – she hadn't told her mother that the Malfoys were moving in. She meant to, but she couldn't even bring her courage up, facing the kindly, wrinkled face of her mother. This was the woman who raised her, and here she was inviting their mortal enemies to their house. This day was the big moving day, and Draco was packing up his few belongings so they could begin taking their things to the Weasley's.

After getting things packed they all sat in the kitchen, Draco facing Narcissa and Ginny in the middle, perched like a little bird. Narcissa's shifty eyes bore into the side of Ginny's face as Ginny stirred her tea with a spoon. " I suppose this move was all her idea?" Narcissa asked.

The disapproval in her voice prompted Draco to immediately apologize. " I don't want to do this, Mother, I really don't. I'm sorry it had to come down to this."

Narcissa puckered her lips. " These… these Weasleys better bite their cheeks raw before they dare speak of this… this _disgrace_."

Ginny's spoon spun harder, scraping the edges now.

" Must you be so damned noisy!" Narcissa shouted.

Ginny's entire body stilled and then she took the spoon out and laid it flat on the table. She let her fury bubble inside of her instead of saying anything to defend herself. It was only these few minutes and then she'd be on home territory. No more oatmeal, no more gray drafty rooms, no more depressing atmosphere. If the Burrow didn't cheer the Malfoys up, nothing could.

Draco spoke up though, his voice filled with hidden dread: " It's for the best. I'll find us an apartment that I can keep up with my wage."

Ginny tried not to smile. She had begged Harry a while ago to raise Draco's salary without Draco noticing. Draco was making a few Sickles more each week, but the change was so slight that he couldn't notice. Within a month his pay would be up almost a full level. Harry was being a gigantic help behind the scenes. Though Ginny told Harry little to nothing of the Malfoy's private life, Harry believed her when she spoke of Draco's changing.

" I suppose nothing is below us anymore. We've lost everything we could have wanted, or so I thought. Now we're willingly giving up the mansion and moving in with the Weasleys." The dull drone of Narcissa's voice invaded Ginny's ears.

" It's not willingly." Ginny said, finally.

" Excuse me?" Narcissa glared at her.

" It isn't willingly." Ginny repeated. " The bank is closing it down. If you'd have stayed here, then you'd be kicked out onto the streets."

Narcissa's face turned red with fury. " To have the cheek to talk back to me like this!"

Draco looked up now, his face riddled with confusion and guilt.

" Someone so lowly. Three years ago you wouldn't have had the honor to lick my shoes clean, and here you are, telling me to do with my life, as if you were some sort of savior for us." Narcissa spat. She shook out her handkerchief. A gray cloud of dust circled Ginny, stinging her eyes.

Ginny replied, coolly: " I think that it's you that has problems, Mrs. Malfoy. You know who's opening the windows, don't you?" She frowned. " Well, I'll tell you who's opening the windows…"

" Stop." Draco said, weakly.

" How dare you threaten me!" Narcissa raised her hand, ready to slap Ginny. " Draco, tell her, tell her just how _important_ she is to us!"

" Stop!" Draco jumped to his feet. Both women turned and looked at him. He was looking down at the table, avoiding their eyes. " You're both right and wrong at the same time, alright? Don't make me take sides. Don't…" He spoke slowly, his voice drawn with pain. " … make… me … take… sides."

Narcissa shook her head. " Well!"

Draco looked up slowly, the light slowly uncovering his face from the darkness. First the tip of his nose, then the expanse of forehead, the glisten of his blonde hair, the slightly darker eyebrows, then the arcs of his eyelashes, and then his eyes, oceans exploding in them. " Mother, and one more thing. If you think I want to do this, if you think that Ginny's doing all this for us because she wants to spite us, then… then I'm sorry, but you've utterly lost grip on reality. The world isn't out to get us. Ginny - - she wants to help us. If you don't want to admit it, than don't, but keep your comments to yourself."

Narcissa looked at Ginny. " You've poisoned him with your snakes. You can take my son away from me, but…" Her voice cracked, her eyes flowing with tears. " … you'll _never_ kill the Malfoy spirit. Never."

Narcissa stood and took her bags and went outside to wait. Draco went up to Lucius's room, and Ginny remained in the kitchen to clean things up. She wondered if she'd ever see the Malfoys truly happy.

Molly Weasley cut a hearty slice of meatloaf for everyone at the table. She gave one to Narcissa first, then to Draco, then to her husband, one for herself, one for Ron, and lastly for Ginny. The entire table was silent, and even the silent tick-tock of the clock was threateningly loud, like the pulsating of the vein in Arthur Weasley's forehead, or the rhythmic tapping of Narcissa's fingers against the table.

After the move, Ginny took her family aside and gave them the lowdown, and being the good parents, neither of the Weasley seniors wanted to outwardly scold Ginny, but inside, they fumed and wondered what they've done to deserve this fate. Molly smiled uncertainly and asked Arthur: " How was your day at the Joke Shop?"

Arthur helped part-time at Fred and George's Joke Shop after retiring from the Ministry. He smiled and shrugged. " It's been alright, I suppose. We've received an order for fifty Ink-Squirting Gum Wrappers. Someone's mother will have a lot of laundry tonight…"

Molly laughed appreciatively, and Ron did so too. Ginny smiled. The Malfoys sat in a stony silence. Draco finally made a move and began cutting his meatloaf. So far there had been absolutely no interaction between the Weasleys and Malfoys besides polite "Thank You's" as food was passed around.

" Maybe I'll take you to the Joke Shop, Mr. Malfoy." Ginny said to Draco.

Draco looked up at her and smiled, but then saw his mother's surly expression and immediately replied, darkly: " I'll see if I'll have time."

Ron cleared his throat impatiently. " So I suppose all of us will be sleeping in one room while the Malfoy family gets a room for each member?" Ron's eyes stared into Ginny's.

" I… I think that we'll manage." Ginny said loudly.

" Hmm, I've never heard of anyone using pepper and salt _only_ to marinate meatloaf." Narcissa spoke up.

Molly's face was flushed now. " Well, we don't really have any expensive imported French herbs…"

" Don't apologize, Molly." Arthur told her. He gave the Malfoys a death-glare. " When in France, one must do as the French do. We'll be having your delicious dinners without any whims."

The bitter silence at the table continued now. Draco stood, clearing his throat. " Thank you."

" You're welcome, darling." Molly said, with a weak smile. " Take the plate to the sink, would you?"

Draco looked a bit taken aback. He glanced at the kitchen sink behind him and then at his plate, trying to pretend he was used to doing this. Ginny saw his discomfort and shot up immediately, taking his plate and hers. " I'm done too. I was just about to go put my plate in the sink, don't worry about it."

Ginny used Draco's plate to shield her half-eaten meatloaf as she approached the sink and dumped the two plates in. Draco stood and left the room and retired into the bedroom they had set up for him.

Narcissa stood as well. " Thank you. Good night." She said, leaving the room (and her plate) behind.

Molly replied: " Good night, dear." Her brows were knitted in silent fury. Once the Malfoys were up in their rooms, she turned and gave Ginny a pitying look. " Were they always like this? Not raising a finger, except maybe to strike the hand that feeds them?"

" Narcissa was, but Draco isn't too bad. He's a little shy right now, I guess." Ginny said.

" Shy?" Ron scoffed.

" You should talk with him, just a little." Ginny told Ron. " You were classmates."

" Didn't you get anything from all the times I wrote home, saying what an asshole he is?" Ron whispered hotly.

" Ron!" Molly exclaimed, her eyes wide.

" Fact is, I don't even know why you brought them here. Who cares if they're broke? It's about time they learn about something called life!" Ron continued.

" Now, stop it right there, young man…" Molly scolded on. " Arthur, tell him something!"

Arthur Weasley was silent though, for he quietly agreed. He shook his head and told Ginny: " I just don't know, honey. I don't know how we'll make it with them living here for – how long?"

" Until they find an apartment. Maybe a month?" Ginny winced as their expressions went sour.

Molly looked down at her plate nervously, clearing her throat. " Ginny, I might be able to deal with a paralyzed man and an aged woman, but Draco frightens me. His eyes, they're like a killer's. I don't like that boy, not even a little. No, not at all."

Ginny shook her head. " Mom, you don't understand. I'd know better than to bring him here if he weren't harmless. He's depressed, but he's not cruel. Not anymore."

" Just wait until he gets comfortable. He was too miserable before, but he's going to snap right back to his old self here." Ron said.

Ginny bit her lip.

" Oh, what? Did you really think you could turn Draco into Harry?" Ron continued.

" Stop that this instant! You're bickering like children!" Molly stood up, flushed. She took her plate with her. " We're going to be perfectly hospitable to our new guests. In the mean time, Arthur, you try and find a nice apartment for them."

" Without telling who it's for!" Ginny butted in.

" Oh, yes. Awfully shameful thing, isn't it, an apartment?" Arthur mumbled bitterly.

" Can't I go and stay with Harry for the month?" Ron begged his mother. " We barely see each other anymore…"

" Ron, no." Molly said. " Let's lay down the rules right now, so nobody forgets how to behave."

Arthur, Ginny and Ron leaned in to the table, all waiting to hear Molly's words.

" We can't – absolutely _can't_ – let Draco out of our sight." Molly said.

" Mom!" Ginny exclaimed, her cheeks flushing.

" Ginny, you're always going to be up there, tending to Lucius. You promise me, the second Draco starts acting funny, you tell me." Molly continued. " There are no excuses. I don't want to come home and see all my children murdered, and the Dark Mark hanging over our house."

Ginny shook her head, but had to agree.

" Second of all…" Molly continued. " We need to find an apartment, pronto. None of us will sit down and rest until we get it. We'll each take turns, try to find cheap places. Thankfully we have a lot of connections, so we'll manage."

" What about Narcissa?" Arthur asked.

" If she sleepwalks again…" Molly began. " … We'll have to confront her about it. Our house is too small to let someone stumble blindly in it for long. And last thing – on our best manners. The Weasleys are going to prove once and for all that we're not below the Malfoys, but we won't be their slaves either. Polite, but don't escort them out of all their duties."

" It's my job to …" Ginny began, but was cut off.

" It isn't your job to house and feed them. They aren't even paying you any more, are they?" Ron asked.

Ginny shook her head, embarrassed.

" Or, wait, maybe Draco's paying you in other ways?" Ron continued, viciously.

" Ron!" Molly thumped her hand on the table. " You know that's not true. Ginny would never, _ever_ let a man like that take advantage of her."

" Look at her face. She's all red." Ron said.

" Because… because you're so mean to me!" Ginny blurted out.

" Now, that is that! Don't you ever bring something like that up again, Ron. You know it isn't true. Ginny wouldn't do something like that, not to her own family." Arthur said. " I'll go out right now and get a copy of the _Prophet_. Maybe they have some apartment ads in there."

" You do that, dear." Molly nodded in approval. " The rest of you to bed, now. Ginny, you'll take Draco around and get him familiar with the neighborhood tomorrow, so she'll need her sleep. Ron, you too."

Ron rolled his eyes. " I'm not a child anymore, Mom."

" Well, you sure act like one. Now scoot." Molly was grinning again and Ron shook his head and kissed her cheek. Nobody could stay angry with Molly Weasley for long – perhaps it was her warm body or her plump cheeks, or her big smile, or even something inside, but you simply had to love her.


	18. Thank You

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Author: Little Maggie

Date: December 23, 2002

Note: After posting my first original rap song on Fanfiction.net, I felt so enlightened I sat down and finished this chapter, and I am posting it promptly the day after. I hope this warms some frost-bitten December hearts today.

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Chapter Eighteen

Thank You

Ginny stopped in the doorway of Draco's room and knocked on the door. Draco was sitting on his bed, his back to her, facing out the window, but when he heard the knock he turned to face her, shoving a letter he was writing into an envelope. He pushed the envelope into a drawer and slammed it shut.

" What's wrong?" Ginny asked him.

" Nothing." Draco replied, plastering a fake smile on his face.

" If it's nothing, then get ready because I'm showing you around the neighborhood today." Ginny told him.

" I don't really feel like going out today."

" Or is it more like, you don't feel like going out today with me?"

He was silent.

" Or maybe it's something like, you don't feel like going out in this neighborhood, because it just happens to lack mansions?"

" Leave me alone." He grumbled. " I don't have to tag along to everything you're doing, do I?"

" I'll find you something to do then." Ginny told him. " My mother said you'd be tall enough to help get the cobwebs off the ceiling in the hallway."

" Can't you just stand on a chair?"

" Are you the one that's disabled?" Ginny exclaimed. " Last time I checked, you were perfectly healthy. Come on, I have a lot of work to do, and if you could even take away ten minutes of work from me, it would be much appreciated."

Draco stood and followed her out into the hall. Ginny handed him a feathery duster and motioned at the ceiling. " Nothing like good old-fashioned cleaning to get the blood circulating." Ginny told him and walked off.

Draco looked down at the bundle of feathers tied neatly to a stick. He vaguely recalled a maid of the Malfoys using one of them to clean his bureau in his room. Now he was the one holding it, as if he were brandishing some sort of outlandish sword. Draco raised it and swept across the ceiling, twirling it into a spider web. The web wrapped around it, covered in dust and no longer sticky.

He looked down the hallway to make sure nobody was around, and he then took out his wand and cast a cleaning charm. Immediately, the hallway was devoid of cobwebs. Draco sat down on the ground in the hallway, leaned against the wall with his back, and waited for some sort of absolution to relieve him from any more work.

" Draco?" A familiar voice exclaimed all of a sudden.

Draco's eyes snapped open. Lavender was standing at the end of the hallway, her arm looped through Ron's casually. " If I hadn't seen it before my very eyes, I wouldn't have believed it."

Ron sighed. " I've been meaning to tell you, Lavender." Lavender's arm dropped to her side as Ron released her hand. " Draco's, uh, he's here today to talk with my mother. You know how Ginny's working with them, right? He just wants to negotiate some stuff with my Mom."

Draco stood up and nodded. " Yeah, I was just about to leave, actually."

" With a duster in your hand?" Lavender's eyebrows raised.

Draco looked down at the cleaning item in his hand and dropped it to the floor, as if he had just seen it there for the first time. " Oh, it was lying on the floor, I just picked it up." Draco lied again.

Ron looked nervous. " You said you needed to stop at our house to use the bathroom, didn't you? So go on, Lavender."

Lavender nodded, gave Draco a suspicious look, and then slipped into the rest room. Ron waited until the sound of water running blocked out the sound before saying: " Draco, get out of my sight right now. Lavender's got the biggest mouth in…"

" Then why'd you bring her here?" Draco exclaimed. " Can't she hold it until she gets home?"

Ron shook his head. " You have no idea what being polite to a lady is, right? How to behave on a date? You've probably never been on one."

Draco felt his face burn. " Shows how little you know." He said. It was true though, Draco knew it deep inside. He hadn't dated.

" Go!" Ron mouthed, as the sound of the bathroom doorknob hit their ears.

Draco disappeared into the nearest room and then closed the door. He turned around and saw Ginny, her bare back facing him, only a flimsy white slip covering her legs and bottom. He bit his tongue and glanced around feverishly to find someplace to hide before Ginny turned around. He ducked into the closet and waited.

Ginny was changing into an outfit suitable to clean in. She tied her long red hair up into a bun on her head and was now pulling a soft earthy brown sweater on. She didn't have too awful of a figure, she had wide hips and a nice bust, and she often wore baggy clothing, so it made her disproportional, chubby. She didn't look chubby now.

He averted his eyes as Ginny started putting on a skirt. She paused, then turned to the closet. She was going to find some other skirt to put on!

Draco was suddenly overwhelmingly glad that he hadn't wore his usual silver-gray suit and green tie, for all of Ginny's clothing was bright and cheery and he'd stand out like a weed in a rose garden. His white shirt and khaki pants blended in with the wall and the wedding dress. Draco observed the wedding dress closely – it had the words _Molly O'Brennan _written in marker on the collar-tag. Molly Weasley had worn this when she was going to be married. It would be Ginny's dress, too.

He ran his hand over the silky smooth sleeve.

Ginny pushed her clothes apart and a couple dresses smashed into him, pushing him back against the wall. Ginny drew out a pair of black pants and then walked off. Draco allowed himself to breathe out again.

Ginny fixed some things up in the room and then walked out. Draco waited until the door was closed and then he went out of the closet too, his clothes rumpled. He looked into the closet again. Ron, Ginny, Arthur and Molly all had their clothing in one closet now, and their three beds left little to no floor space in the room.

Draco went out into the hallway as well and then pretended he was leaving the room next door. Ron and Lavender were gone, but Ginny was in the hallway, staring at the feather duster with a flimsy smile. " Nice job with the cobwebs." She said to Draco with a grin. " See what a little effort could do?"

He shrugged. " Yeah, sure." Draco could sense his cheeks were still flushed. He wondered what would have happened if Ginny had noticed him in her room. He'd probably never hear the end of it – him being a pervert, a sicko.

" I bet you're hungry." She fumbled in her pants' pocket. " Here." Ginny handed him a slip of paper. " We received a handout from a restaurant. Maybe you'd like to go there?"

Draco looked it over. "Do they deliver?"

She burst out laughing. " You are so anti-social! Everyone knows I'm your nurse by now, it's not like they'd care to see us outside together. Besides, since when do you care what other people think? You used to make fun of anything with a spine, and now you're so self-conscious."

He frowned. " I'm just asking…"

" Then don't waste your breath." She grinned. " Let's go?"

Draco nodded, finally. " Alright."

The restaurant was nearly empty, just a couple of groups of people huddled alongside the walls of the room. Draco was dressed in his trenchcoat, the hood pulled up over his head so that he threateningly resembled a Death Eater. His eyes glittered from an otherwise impenetrable darkness. Ginny sat down at a booth instead of a table, so that the tall cushioned sofa-like extensions from the wall hid them.

Draco lowered his hood, then let it drop entirely so that it lay on his back. The waitress came up to them, and he was taken aback to see that it was Pansy. Pansy blinked, then exclaimed: " Draco! Where have _you_ been hiding?"

He shrugged haplessly.

Pansy looked at Ginny. " Oh, I see." Pansy said, as if it explained everything.

" My father's sick." Draco told Pansy. " This is the nurse, Ginny Weasley."

Pansy's broad white face wrinkled in muted dislike as she shook Ginny's hand. When Ginny wasn't looking, Pansy wiped her hand off on her hip. This reminded Draco of the first time he shook Ginny's hand, and even though his reaction was the same, he was slightly angered at Pansy.

" Have you been the Malfoy nurse long?" Pansy asked politely.

" A month and a half." Ginny replied.

" What have you been up to?" Pansy questioned Draco. " Ever since the seventh year, you just fell off the face of the Earth. Everyone else had gotten up and moved on, you know."

Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably. " I've been busy working."

" You were always too busy." Pansy grumbled. " What'll be your order?"

Draco's indecisive expression prompted Ginny to speak up: " Two omelets, please, with a side of French Toast."

" Drinks?"

" I'll have Hennessy…" Draco began, but Ginny shook her head and said: " Two waters, that's all."

" Hmm." Pansy jotted it down. " Anything else?"

" No, thank you." Ginny managed a smile. Pansy walked off and Ginny looked at Draco. "I'm sorry, I didn't know she'd be here."

" She doesn't bother me." Draco told her.

" Really? I thought she used to be your girlfriend."

He shrugged. " It didn't last very long. As she said, I was always too busy. I had to study pretty hard to be Head Boy, just so that Potter wouldn't have the joy to grace the position."

Ginny sighed. " Harry's getting married Christmas week, you know. Just two weeks from now, to Hermione."

" Tell him to rest in pieces."

" It's going to be a real black-tie affair. The party will be huge. Harry's inheritance from his parents is enough to have a huge bash. They're already looking for a big house, and Harry wants to get out of his apartment."

Draco shrugged. " So?"

" Hmm. Nothing." Ginny mused. Pansy came by and set their water, French toast and omelets down in front of them. " Thank you." Ginny told her.

Pansy didn't reply. She went back through the swinging doors into the kitchen.

" She's jealous over you." Ginny told Draco.

He shook his head. " Why should she be?"

" Wouldn't you want to give her another try?" Ginny asked, carefully. She crossed her fingers under the table. She didn't want Draco to like Pansy.

Draco grasped her hand under the table and she gasped. His fingers unwound her index and middle finger and he told her: " Don't worry, she's out of the picture." He let go of her hand, but Ginny could still feel her fingers burning. She wondered if he felt anything, if he felt that little spark that went through her fingertips and into his. That tiny current that for a moment existed in between them, was it lost on him? 

He looked as if he had done something as simple as brushing away a fly. There wasn't a single trace of concern or deep thought on his face. That empty expression made him seem even more like a cover-model for a romance novel. 

Draco began to eat and Ginny did too.

" On the card, the wedding invitation card…" Ginny began.

" It said, _bring your own casket_." Draco finished. " For Potter will deliver the most dull speech in the history of mankind as we know it."

She laughed. " No, it said, _bring a date_. I don't know who to take with me. I was going to go with Ron, but he's taking Lavender."  
" Don't go." He replied, arrogantly. " You'll probably read all about it in the _Prophet_ anyway, they never get enough of their favorite front-page hero."

Ginny nodded to herself and decided to change the subject. Obviously she wasn't going very far with Draco's one-track mind. " We should be going back, just in case I'm going to be needed around the house."

Draco nodded and helped pile their empty plates together. " Thank you for dinner." He said. " It was a change from your cooking."

She grinned and pulled out her coin purse and began to lay out the money and tip. She did so slowly, deliberately, hoping that, at any moment, Draco would jump in and offer to pay for her. However, he was nowhere near doing that. Ginny's copper-yellow, cheery coins glistened sadly in the waning restaurant light as Draco led the way out of the restaurant. She felt unexpectedly sad inside.

Very late that night, Ginny dressed for the night and climbed into bed. She reached over to her night lamp, turned the light off, and then tucked her hands under her pillow. An envelope rustled underneath it.

Ginny pulled it out and then saw that it was a letter to her, with her name on it. She pulled it out slowly and read:

__

Thank you for being a good nurse and a good model for the painting. I finished it last night and put a glaze over it to keep the paint from chipping away, and then I put a sheet over it for safekeeping. I guess this isn't much, but I hope you can make another one of those scarves for yourself with it.

Draco

She reached into the envelope and pulled out a money satchel. The money that Draco was going to deposit into the bank – the money that the goblin told him wasn't enough to settle the debt the Malfoys were in – was all in the satchel. A good week's worth of pay. So the Malfoys were going to pay her after all.

Ginny felt warm tears burning in her eyes as she flipped the letter over in her arms, almost expecting to see some sort of catch to it. Then, she realized his letter didn't even mention any desire to sell or give her the painting. He was going to keep it.

Her stomach danced nervously. She counted the money. It was too much, she couldn't possibly accept it. It wasn't even minimum wage for a month and a half of nursing, but to the Malfoys it was more than they could possibly afford.

He hadn't even consulted his mother for it.

Then she saw it – the extra side note. Her stomach dropped and she flicked her light on, anxious to know what it said. Then, she read it:

__

P.s. Thanks for being a friend too.


	19. Distant

Maggie

Original Creative Writing

Chapter 19 of "Dracordia"

An Original Harry Potter Novelette

Note: Due to a weird, unpredictable computer crash, I am forced to work off my grandmother's laptop. Because of the sudden change in both writing programs, internet systems, etc, I will have to ask you to forgive the extensive errors and even layout problems caused by this. I will probably be away from the computer for days after this chapter, so I wanted to upload.

Chapter Nineteen 

Draco, flashback

                The snow was fresh outside, like a crisp blanket that didn't even have a chance to develop wrinkles. It was like something out of Narcissa's needle works – a gorgeous carpet of white. Draco pressed his face against the glass pane of his bedroom window, his breath drawing icy clouds. He glanced over his shoulder at the willowy figure in the doorway.

_                " Mother?" He asked, politely._

_                " Come downstairs, son." Narcissa replied coolly. Her voice hinted at surprises other than the usual trip down to breakfast._

_                " It snowed today." Draco mused, drawing a Death Mark in the foggy cloud he created on the glass. Inside, he couldn't help but feel great. It was his birthday, the big 10 years old, where he abandoned his previous single digit status and took on a new role in his family. He was a man now, that's what Lucius told him the night before. He was going to take care of the family business one day, and eventually of his mother once his father would be gone. The Malfoy men always did die young._

_                " I know." Narcissa told him. " Do you remember your Snow-Clearing Spell?"_

_                " Yup." He grinned brightly._

_                " Let's go downstairs." She held her hand out to him._

Draco hesitated, this was something new to him, this open-handed affection. The idea of his birthday took over him though.  His hand wormed into his mother's and they descended down the staircase and into the kitchen. Lucius was sitting at the table, his briefcase laid out before him. 

" Son." Lucius nodded in greeting and then motioned with his hand towards the chair across the table.

" Oh! Right." Draco blushed and pulled the chair out for his mother to sit, like a gentleman would. Then he stood and waited for the invitation to join them.

" Sit down." Lucius growled under his breath.

Draco sat, fidgeting impatiently. " It snowed, you know. I want to go outside and make a snowman."

" That's such a silly Muggle tradition. I don't know why it ever caught on with the Purebloods." Lucius said, putting the briefcase down to the floor beside his feet. " Draco, go check by the doorway outside, see if they brought the newspaper in yet."

" Aw…" Draco mumbled, standing himself up and heading for the door. He pulled open the heavy wooden door and then looked out through the second glass door. His stomach dropped in surprise as he saw the expensive wooden sled resting  on the steps. It took him aback. There had to be a mistake. His father would never allow for such a toy! It was a Mudblood toy, something that a Pureblood had too much pride to use. Something that especially a Malfoy had too much pride to use.

" Well?" Lucius's voice rumbled from the kitchen.

" Maybe he didn't see it." Narcissa whispered meekly.

" He has my eyes, everyone says so, and any Malfoy's eyes wouldn't miss something like that." Lucius replied. Draco could hear his father approaching.

" Dad!" Draco exclaimed. " Is it for me?"

" I don't know any other birthday boys." Lucius replied with a slight smile on his face.

" Oh, wow!" Draco whispered, looking down at the sled. His fingers traced the floral design on it. " I can't believe it. Can I…?"

" Go ahead. It snowed just so you could use it." Lucius finally grinned whole-heartedly.

Draco sat down on the sled and looked out at the icy street ahead of him. " Thank you." He choked out.

" Don't you cry." Lucius warned. " There's nothing good out of a man that cries."

Draco nodded slowly and then dragged the sled out into the street. He returned, ready to shut the door, when he felt Lucius set a hand down on his shoulder. It was a burning, warm touch, something that didn't happen too often. Draco jerked away, uncomfortable, and said: " Thanks again."

" Happy Birthday, Draco." Lucius told him. " Keep your feet out of the snow, it's a waste of some nice pants there."

" Okay." Draco said, edging off towards the sled again. " Wait! Mom…?"

" I'm right here, Draco." Narcissa said from behind Lucius's shoulder. " Come get your coat."

Draco ran up the stairs, snatched his coat out of her hands, and then plopped himself down on the sled again. " Can I go now?"

" Go ahead, I'm watching." She waved to him as he set off down the sloped hill and towards the snowdrifts below. His hair whipped around his face, his cheeks a glowing red, a real smile crossing his face. Far off in the distance, Lucius Malfoy turned away and looked at Narcissa, her gray nightgown and his ashen business suit fluttering in the wind like battered flower petals.

" Pretty emotional for a boy. You don't think we're raising him  too soft?" Lucius asked.

" I think it would be good for him to enjoy his birthday." Narcissa said, finally. " He's going to celebrate it at Hogwarts next year, you know. It's his last full year with us."

" Hmm." Lucius sighed. " We were lucky that our only one ended up a boy. Girls aren't much use to serve the Dark Lord."

Draco raced up the stairs again and cheered out: " Did you see me? Did you see me murder that hill?"

" We saw you." Narcissa said proudly. 

" I can't wait until it's time for the Initiation for him. We'll see if he's too soft then. Too much emotion isn't good for a kid." Lucius told Narcissa under his breath.

" We have five years until then." Narcissa said. " He'll make you proud." She pressed her hands to her stomach and sighed. " Our only one we'll ever have…"

" Let's get you inside before you catch cold again." Lucius told her. They receded into the room. Out in the distance, Draco's blood-red coat flapped as he raised the sled and ran up the hill again, a broad smile on his face.

*

He woke up feeling refreshed. The dreams had finally been pleasant, something he could still remember vividly – his tenth birthday. Draco stood, stretched, and then saw the envelope sticking out from beneath his pillow. He pulled it out and opened it.

Draco,

Thank you for the letter and the money. I couldn't take it because I was your friend, but I had to take it because it was a job. I promise that I'll help pay the down payment with you for your apartment once you get it. I don't know if I'd make a good friend anyway, maybe my hair's too red?

Ginny

Draco grinned to himself and dressed quickly, pushing the letter back into the book case. He spent a good few hours of the night listening to Ginny's story to Lucius. It was an interesting one, about Sirius Black and how he was truly innocent, but convicted as a criminal. Draco had to pretend he was listening to a story with someone else in it, though, someone he didn't know. Seeing Sirius die changed the story a bit, made him feel like the villain of it. He didn't like it.

He moved into the kitchen, where Ginny and Molly Weasley were rushing furiously to make dinner. Draco moved inside, deciding not to button the top button of his shirt, for it was pretty warm in the room. Ginny looked up from the sizzling eggs and bacon and smiled. " Good morning."

" 'Morning." He said. " Is my mother up yet?"

" Afraid not. Mrs. Malfoy woke up a few times tonight to get herself some extra sleeping tonics." Ginny told him. " I guess that means she'll sleep until noon."

Draco smiled. " I can help with the table."

Molly blinked and gave Ginny a worried look.

When Draco wasn't looking, Ginny whispered to her mother: " I told you he's nice without his mother around."

" I don't know." Molly sighed. " You never know what a young man might want from a pretty young girl like you."

" Shh." Ginny went to the table, where Draco was setting plates. " Need any help?"

" Is the fork on the right or left?" Draco asked.

" Left." Ginny replied. She took some of his plates from his hand and then helped him set the table. Molly Weasley went upstairs to wake Arthur and Ron, for they would all be going to work within a few hours.

Once they were alone, Draco told Ginny: " Your hair isn't too red."

She laughed. " Maybe I'm too tall."

" You're fine." He finished setting the glasses by now and was searching the kitchen with his eyes for something else to grab hold of. He wasn't sure why but suddenly he wanted to keep his eyes away from Ginny's.

" Or too fat."

" You aren't fat." He exclaimed. " Round, maybe."

Ginny's hand brushed his as she set down a handful of napkins. She thought maybe some sort of contact would loosen him up, but Draco jerked away immediately. He wasn't a very physical person, something Ginny couldn't understand. Any touch or glance was taken as too intimate for Draco. She wondered how anyone could be so distant about simple gestures.

" You have a lot of nice suits, but they're all too gray or too white." Ginny told him. " Maybe we could go to a nice tailor and get you something less glum."

" What's wrong with my suits?" He murmured, looking down nervously at his simple, if not dreary, grayed khakis and immaculate, wrinkle-free shirt.

" They don't give that…" She paused. " … oomph."

" Oomph?" He raised his eyebrows.

Adorable. Ginny smiled and nodded. " If you want to get promoted, it's not just good behavior, it's dressing sharp and trying to catch the leader's eyes."

" Why would I bother catching Potter's eye with my clothes?" Draco said. " He doesn't even blink when I'm around him. He's suspicious of me as if I'm some sort of menace."

" Maybe you are…? A secret office supply smuggler, or a paperclip bandit, or…"

" Ha, really funny." Draco turned and saw that the rest of the Weasleys were already moving into the room, showering them with salutations.

Ron sat down at the table and began to load food on his plate right away. Draco couldn't believe that they kids didn't even wait until their parents were seated before eating. Arthur didn't even mind, though. He was eating so quickly that his ears were shaking.

Draco sighed and sat down, trying to keep some sort of elegance to himself. He lifted the fork and knife and took minimal amounts of each food and formed them onto his plate. Halfway through the meal he hurried and finished, carried his plate on his own to the sink, and while putting on his tie, he turned to the Weasleys and said in a cool voice: " Good day."

Molly lowered her fork. " Going so soon?"

" Time stands for no one." He replied sadly. His eyes darted momentarily towards Ginny in a quiet farewell, then he turned and picked up his briefcase.

" Take a sandwich!" Molly called out, racing towards him with a paper bag.

" It's alright, I don't eat lunch." He told her, eyes widening in surprise. He was slowly stumbling towards the doorway over the mass of shoes and boots that littered the entrance hall of the Weasley's house.

" No wonder you're so thin." Molly fussed, pushing the lunch bag into his hand. " As long as there's another kid under this roof, I'll be feeding them like they should be."

" Well, uh… thank you… ma'am." Draco took the food and then walked off quickly out the door and onto the street, holding the bag a gentle arm distance away from him.

" He's really distant, isn't he?" Molly said, turning back to her family.

Ron rolled his eyes. " Mom, his father's paralyzed. His mother's crazy. He's forced to live with us. He's a Malfoy. Add those together and what do you get?"

" Ron, please." Ginny said, softly. " Can't you give him a chance?"

" What's there to look forwards to with him? I give him a chance, but for what?"

" He's not as bad as you think." She told him. " "You're just letting your past thoughts on him influence you."

" Past thoughts?" Ron said, finally. " Maybe past actions is more like it. All the times he's made my life a miserable hell! All the times he made Hermione and Harry feel like dirt!"

" Ron, he's different now." Ginny said.

" You're just wooed by him because he's so charming and so 'handsome'." Ron rolled his eyes. " Lavender told me you're smitten."

" That's crazy." Ginny burst out. " I told her nothing like that!"

" It's obvious, isn't it?" Ron hissed. " It's completely obvious!"

" Mom…" Ginny said, finally.

Molly and Arthur exchanged glances, and then Molly said: " Ginny, we just want you to know that the choices you make now will make or break your future. I know you're getting … accustomed… to having Draco around, and we're all trying to accommodate him, but I'd prefer if you get used to the idea that once he moves out… well…"

" Well what?" Ginny asked.

" You'll never see him again. I wouldn't allow for it." Arthur told her.

Author's Note: That's all from me.


	20. A New Suit

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Author: Little Maggie

Date: January 5, 2003

Note: Yes! I'm finally back on the computer, and here's a nice chapter 20. Gary Skinner, you didn't review chapter 19! Legaldiva, are you reading? Sorry we don't get to talk much on AOL anymore, my computer broke down. 

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Chapter Twenty

A New Suit

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Chapter 20

Ginny sat in her room, huddled in the warm orange throw that was on her bed. She felt cold, numbness all over her. She didn't know how true it was – the whole affair with her never seeing Draco again. She knew that Arthur and Molly still had a lot of adjusting to do. The Malfoys were surely the most unusual of characters.

She looked down at her trembling hands. She was holding a hot cocoa cup, but it was tilting back and forth dangerously in her fingers, letting burning hot drops fall onto her frozen fingers. She didn't feel like drinking it, but holding on to a piece of ember-hot warmth was something she liked to do.

Draco had come home, he hadn't even said anything to her. He stopped in her doorway, saw her in a sad state, and sort of backed into his room without a word. She wondered if he sensed she wasn't in a good mood.

Ginny couldn't understand her family. They were the "good side" in the war, they had won. The winners at the end of a Quidditch match would shake hands with their opponents. The winners at the ends of wars would sign contracts with the losers, and even attempt friendly relations. Why couldn't two families keep their bitterness inside and just shake hands? She didn't want them to do anything extra-ordinary, she just wanted to be able to be friends with Draco. He didn't have very much left in this world.

She looked out the window at the snow, spiraling down in the December chill. Less than a week and a half, and she had to go to the wedding of Harry and Hermione's. Ginny realized suddenly how much she'd have liked if Draco were her date. It would have been a perfect occasion to show everyone that he was civilized, that he was a pleasant man that could behave when he wanted to.

Ginny closed her eyes, rocking gently to some distant drum beat.

__

Rat-a-tat!

She glanced up, realizing that the distant drum beat was actually Draco, knocking on her door. " Can I come in?" He asked.

Ginny glanced over the other two beds in the room – Ron's, and her parent's. Ron was out with Harry, shopping for a nice wedding suit. Her parents were downstairs somewhere, eating a late supper. Feeling reassured, she replied: " Yes."

" What's wrong?" He asked, from the doorway.

" Weren't you going to come in?" She smiled blandly.

" If you prefer." He rolled his eyes and slipped inside. " What's gotten into you? You've never been this sad before."

" I can't explain." Ginny replied, her eyes meeting his. " It's complicated."

" I don't know what could be more unusual than seeing you moping around."

She took an unsteady sip from her cocoa cup. It didn't taste too good, the chocolate was too bitter. She hadn't added any sugar, trusting that the cocoa would have been naturally sweet. Now she wondered if it wasn't too chilled to be able to stir some sugar in.

" Well?" Draco was impatient. He wanted an answer laid out before him, to take the guesswork out of everything.

" My parents have some pretty strict rules around here." Ginny told him. " They're always invisible little rules, things that you just _know_, but it hasn't been said."

" Just like every household." Draco replied. " Is that all?"

" No!" She exclaimed. " Of course not!" She stirred the spoon through the cocoa, watching the darkness swirling around the delicate neck of the silverware. She felt like she, too, was descending into some sort of darkness. " It's more like rules about who we can befriend and who we aren't allowed to befriend."

" They want me gone." Draco said colorlessly.

" Yes." Ginny squeezed her eyes shut tight. " They're so – _so _unforgiving! If you could be my friend, YOU, a Malfoy, why can't they ever allow me to be friends with who I want?"

" Are we just friends?" He asked.

She blinked. " I…"

Draco sat down on the bed beside her, looking up at the childish chandelier swirling around over them. " I don't even know if we're just friends sometimes. I don't know if I like that either." He turned to look at her. " It's not really you, or me, it's just the facts are that we're not supposed to be friends. A friendship like that would probably lead to other things – extraordinary things, even."

" We didn't… but we're not…"

" I know." He said, finally. " I wouldn't let that happen, you wouldn't let something stupid like that happen. When you act, you act with your whole family in mind. When you play chess, you don't think about that one pawn, you think about the whole team, the effects it'll have."

" So it's all just a chess game now?" She mumbled. " We can just stop playing and move apart, as if we don't know one another?"

" I'm not saying that we shouldn't be friends…"

" … It'll be safer that way." Ginny said. " I think we've gotten too far, I'm too involved in your life to just back off. You don't really have any obligations to me, but… but I feel it's my duty to be caretaker for your family."

" Don't do it." He said.

" What do you mean, don't do it?" She blurted out. " I can't just _stop _caring about something like this!"

" No! Just stop pretending you're my wife!" Draco stood up. " That's what you're beginning to do! You're telling me how to dress, what to wear, how to act and talk. You want your family to like me, as if they were my in-laws. If all goes right, I'll never _see_ your family again. So why bother?"

Ginny bit her lower lip, feeling tears rising to her eyes. " That's not true." She whispered. "And it's worth a bother. I thought we'd be friends."

" Friends are dispensable. You don't think they hold you back? I'll be holding you back the entire time, just like my father's holding me back. It's not worth it." Draco told her. " Didn't you notice how I split away from Crabbe and Goyle? It's not _fate_, it was my choice! They had an opportunity to have a good job, so I made them leave me. I'm tired of people feeling that they need to devote themselves to me. You're not Mother Teresa. You have better things to do with your life."

She shook her head. " Maybe to you it's so _easy _to let go, but that's because you let everything die away in you. Don't you notice how cold you got? How useless and depressing life is? I think friends aren't there to hold you back, I think they're there to pull you up."

" I don't know." He turned away from her, his face flushed. " I just don't want you to make a mistake, that's all."

" If I were making a mistake, my heart would tell me so." Ginny said, softly. " I trust my instinct, and I go with it. I think we can still be friends. I think it's those around us that need to change."

" You're not God, you know. You can't just make everyone feel one way or another about something. If someone feels strongly about something, you'd have to _force_ them to believe in your beliefs. Do you think anyone would be happy then?"

" This is getting political." Ginny told him.

" We're not talking about nations, are we, though? We're talking about real people." Draco said.

" Like you ever cared about others before?"

" This is different." He told her. " This is honor, family values, things like that. Things that Malfoys would _never _damage in anyone."

" Can't you just _try_?" She said. " If it doesn't work out, then I'll be proven wrong. I'll back down. Can't we just try though?"

" I can't step on my own honor and be friends with some people." Draco told her. " Your family? Well, _maybe_. But people like Potter and Granger? Never."

Ginny nodded. " You will promise me though that we'll try to get my family to like you?"

" I can't promise you that!"

" Promise me you'll _try_, and if it doesn't work out, then we'll go with your ideas." Ginny said.

" Alright." Draco said, finally. " I'll try. But that doesn't mean I will succeed."

Ginny grinned and threw her arms around him in a warm hug. " Thank you." She whispered softly. " You don't know how much this means to me."

He pulled her hands off of him, looking embarrassed. " Don't be too disappointed when your plan fails."

She shook her head. " It'll only fail if you want it to."

Draco shrugged. " You and your philosophies. Well, I'm going to sleep, you've worked up a headache for me out of all this."

" Good night." Ginny told him, hugging her pillow tightly with one hand and squeezing her cocoa cup with the other.

He shrugged and left the room.

Ginny woke up feeling much better. It was as if an invisible hand had reached out and tickled her in her sleep, because she woke up with a giant little-girl grin on her face. She reached under the pillow again and saw that there was yet another letter there.

__

Hi Ginny,

I hope you're feeling better. I went to work early today. Potter keeps finding new jobs for me these days. I don't know why he's suddenly so interested to keep me occupied, but I can't complain about the extra money. Anyway, I wanted to ask you if you'd like to go get those new suits today.

Draco

She sighed, grinning stupidly, and reread it, reading between the lines, trying to see if there were any subliminal messages. Suddenly she caught herself, feeling like a complete idiot. She was developing a silly crush on Draco, and she knew that he'd never love her back. Just the same, she foolishly allowed herself to be carried away, just like she once had a schoolgirl crush on Harry.

Ginny wondered if, with a new suit on him, Draco would realize he'd be a great date to the wedding reception. He didn't have to go to the chapel if he didn't want to, but she wanted him to go with her to the party. Perhaps she'd find a way to convince him to – some sort of method to get him accepted into the Weasley and Potter crowd.

" What're you smiling about?" She heard a voice exclaim.

" It's nothing." She turned and saw Ron on the bed next to hers. " Shouldn't you be working?"

" I took a day off." Ron replied. " Lavender wanted to go buy a dress for the wedding."

" Oh. Cool." Ginny said, feeling strange inside. Even when Lavender was dating, she'd usually go with Ginny to buy dresses for receptions. Why hadn't Lavender even asked her about it?

" Lavender says you've been distant."

" That's not true…"

" You haven't kept up on your correspondence with her, you never ask her over. She was your _best friend_, Ginny." Ron told her, his face filled with concern. " You're moving away from everyone, don't you see?"

" That's only because I took that job. Now that I'm back home, I swear I'll get my old life back."

" Ginny, I don't know…"

" Ron, stop being so suspicious of me. Do you really think I'd hide something from you? I told you the truth about _everything_ my whole entire life." Ginny told him.

" I'm not saying all this because I'm your enemy, you know that."

" If you really wanted to be a good friend then you'd stop being on my back like this." Ginny stood up and began to make her bed.

" I'm just scared for my little sister. You're the only girl, out of all of us, and you're the youngest to boot. It's just scary to me that something might happen to you – that someone will hurt you – and I was there the whole time and didn't do anything about it."

" Oh, Ron…" She said, hugging him one-handedly while trying to tug her sheets back up under the pillows.

" I guess I'm a little scared, that's all." Ron admitted.

" You should be more concerned about Lavender. Her eye can wander, if you know what I mean." Ginny said. " She tends to cheat once in a while."

" Eh, she's just a fun past time for me anyway." Ron told her. " You should go ahead and eat breakfast downstairs. Narcissa's already eating."  
" I can't believe I out-slept Mrs. Malfoy!" Ginny exclaimed, rushing out of the room.

" Just make sure you don't oversleep becoming Mrs. Malfoy." Ron muttered to himself nervously. He began to tidy his own small segment of the bedroom, wondering how much thinner his wallet will be after shopping with Lavender.

Draco arrived home an hour later than usual. It was dark outside already when he and Ginny left to go shopping for a suit for him. Draco mentioned he didn't have a lot of money so they went to the Wizards and Witches Thrift Store. Draco wasn't too enthusiastic about going there, and he ended up pulling his collar up so that it covered his lips and cheeks, and the brim of his hat down so it covered his eyes. He looked like a gangster.

Ginny flipped through the suits on the rack and pulled out a tan one with a gold and white napkin tucked into the breast pocket. It had lovely gold-thread embroidery on the sleeves. If not for how pretty the embroidery was, it would have come off as tacky." What do you think?"

" It looks really formal." Draco said. " Like something a groom would wear."

" I see, we wouldn't want your suit to compete with Harry's." Ginny said, absent-mindedly, putting the suit back on the rack.

" What?" He asked.

" Oh, never mind, sorry." Ginny exclaimed quickly.

" You think I'm going with you to the wedding, right?" Draco asked her.

She looked up at him, trying to look bold, but she was quivering in fear. " Not really, I was just hoping that maybe we'd end up going together."

" There is no way I'm attending Potter's wedding!" Draco told her.

" You don't have to even shake hands with him. We can slip in a bit late and avoid the whole brouhaha." Ginny spoke frantically.

" I wasn't even invited!"

" But I was, and it said on the card, _bring a date_. That means that whoever I take with me is officially invited, too."

" There's no way…"

" Oh, please?" Ginny said. " For all the times I posed for your painting?"

" I thought you liked the attention." He teased.

" I'm not saying I didn't like it, but – you know, _quid pro quo_. I did something for you, you do something for me."

" Hey, I paid you, didn't I?" Draco asked.

" You promised me you'd try to fit in with my family, right? They'd probably be angry with you if I end up going alone. I bet they're all expecting you to be a gentleman and ask me." Ginny crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping he'd buy it.

" Why? We're barely even friends." Draco told her.

Her heart fluttered painfully. " We can go as friends."

" I just don't know." Draco pulled out a simple black suit. It was pretty drab. " I like this one."

" Oh, come on! That's something that a funeral house owner would wear!" Ginny laughed.

" Alright, if you're so smart, you pick."

" Here." She pulled out another suit, this one of a much simpler cut. It was navy blue with a white flower pinned to the breast pocket. It was simple but elegant, and it would bring out the color of Draco's eyes, give them a pulsating icy blue look instead of a smoggy gray.

" It's not bad." Draco admitted.

" Then we'll take it." She said. " Hopefully you'll make up your mind and put it to good use?"

" Hopefully not." He replied.


	21. Decisions

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Name: LittleMaggie

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Date: January 8, 2003

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Note: Yay! I wrote this chapter, the next chapter, and ¼ the chapter after that! I'm so pleased that I was so inspired. So a chapter daily, probably, for the next 2 days.

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Chapter Twenty-One

Preparations

Lavender glanced up at Ginny from the bowl of chili in front of her. " So what's the update with the wedding gala?" She asked, her red lips puckering tentatively as she blew at a thin streamer of steam.

" Hermione's picked her dress." Ginny said proudly. " She looks _gorgeous_. She found this nice sleeveless gown with a lace wrap around the shoulders and a long train behind her. It looks really nice."

" What about Harry?"

" Nervous, but he's definitely ready too. He got himself a really fancy suit, black with a pretty white scarf to go with it and white gloves. He looks like a concert pianist." Ginny crooned.

" Wow." Lavender sighed. " Your brother's got himself a nice suit. Pretty sexy-looking in it." She giggled. " I'll be the one wearing the vampy, backless, glittery black dress… in case you can't recognize me." She looked up, her eyes glittering beneath the thick lashes, artificially curled. " I'll look _grand_."

" Hmm." Ginny twiddled with the button on her sweater.

" Do you have a dress?" Lavender asked.

" No."

" Are you _serious_? Darling, you won't find one at this point!" She sighed. " All the nice ones are gone, what with New Year's and Christmas coming up." 

" I might wear that one I wore to graduation." Ginny told her.

" You can't be serious!" Lavender laughed uncomfortably. " Everyone's seen you in it, and it's incredibly out of fashion. Peach muslin? _Please, _don't humiliate yourself, dear."

" I can fix it up." Ginny offered miserably. " I can use my wand and make it blue or something."

" _All _the girls are wearing black to the wedding. You'll stand out." Lavender whispered, her eyes boring into Ginny's threateningly. " We _must _go shopping together. Do you even have a _date_?"

Ginny felt her face flood with color. " Yes." She lied, hating the judging way Lavender was staring at her.

" Don't tell me your date's Draco." Lavender clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth critically.

" What if it is?" Ginny replied. " I don't see what's wrong with that."

" Well, of course you wouldn't. Can't you look at it from an outside perspective though? Think how Harry and Hermione would feel, how uncomfortable it would be to have the best day of their lives turned into a stinker because they have to stare at _that_ sneering face through the entire night."

" Harry really wants to help Draco out lately. I've talked with him, and…"

" You don't think a soft-heart like Harry would shoot you down, do you?" Lavender asked. Suddenly, all the air-headedness and all the bubbly boy-craziness that filled her head was gone, and she was all seriousness.

Ginny could feel her eyebrows knitting into a frown. She didn't like how everyone was becoming so serious about her and Draco, even Draco himself. " I don't think Harry would lie to me just to make me feel happy." She said.

" I don't know, Ginny. I think you're trying on shoes that are just too big for you." Lavender saw Ron enter the room and she immediately jumped up and ran over, her fishnet tights flashing her lovely legs. " Ronnie-kins!"

" Hi Lavender." He kissed her lightly and turned towards Ginny. " We're leaving for our date. Draco's going to be home any minute now, so just heat up the rest of the chili for him, okay?"

" Alright." Ginny replied, grinning foolishly. She was thinking about having a chat with Draco, alone in their house, without any outbursts from her family. There was some convincing to do.

They left, and just as Ron had said, Draco walked in minutes later. He put his suitcase down on the floor and sat down at the table across from her. " Potter was passing out invitations at work today." Draco told her. " He's inviting anyone capable of sitting upright."

She laughed. " Did you get an invitation?"

" Are you kidding me? By the time he reached the Paper-Sorting room, his invitations were all gone. Those old men at the front desk are real party-goers." Draco's eyes ventured across the kitchen landscape and stopped at her bowl of chili. " Any more of that left?"

" On the stove." Ginny started to stand up.

" I can heat it up." Draco told her.

She sat back down, feeling pleased. She could remember how, long ago, he had refused to even carry her heavy bag as they walked through the Malfoy manor. He was certainly less full of himself.

" I've thought about what you told me." He said, finally, glancing up from the chili pot. "Should I just use a normal Heating spell, do you think?"

" Yes." She replied, then added: " Thought about what?"

He took out his wand and heated the chili. " Just about taking you to the wedding dance. I've really considered it."

Ginny felt a ripple of pleasure roll through her. " Really?" She muted her joy, but under the table, she crossed her toes in surprise. She couldn't wait until she'd retire to her bedroom for the night. She'd write all about it in her diary, which she hadn't updated for a few days now.

" Sure." He grinned and immediately hid the smile from her. " I think that I'll go, but just to prove that I won't be accepted."

" Oh, you pessimist." She sighed.

" No, I'm a realist." Draco told her. " I'll go, prove it, and you'll give up. There's no use to just… continue. Hey, where's my mother?"

" She's feeling weak. She didn't want to talk to me." Ginny replied. " I think she has a headache. Withdrawal from all the sleeping potions she's gotten her body used to."

" Not good." Draco brought a bowl over to the table and sat down.

Ron burst into the room just then, his red hair a frightful mess. " Why's it so damn windy today?" Ron said angrily, pulling down the coattails of his raincoat. It was slick with water from the steady shower of snowflakes outside. Ron nodded in greeting to Draco and told Ginny: " Did Lavender leave a purse in here somewhere?"

Ginny shook her head. " No."

" We had to turn around from our little walk and come right back. She's so upset now she wants to go home." Ron complained. " Now she's blaming me, then she's blaming God, then suddenly she's muttering about how she's an utter failure."

" That's Lavender in a nutshell." Ginny told him with a sympathetic smile. " I'll go check in the bathroom." She slipped out of the room and walked down the hallway towards the rest room.

Draco looked at Ron, an uncertain expression dawning on his face. Draco brought a spoonful of chili to his lips just as Ron asked: " So when are you leaving?"

Draco swallowed quickly and replied: " I don't know."

" You don't know?" Ron said bitterly. " We never said you can live with us forever."

" I can't find an apartment. All the empty ones are so expensive."

" Can't you borrow the money from the bank?" Ron spat.

" The bank froze the Malfoy account." Draco replied coldly. He hated the way Ron spoke to him, he hated the very demeaning nature of his tone.

" Oh, yes." Ron said, rolling his eyes. " How could I expect you to be able to pay for anything in the real world?"

" I'm saving all my pay to get an apartment." Draco reminded him. " And you better hold your tongue in front of me too. I'm not ever patient either. I'm in your house, but that doesn't mean I have to take all your shit!"

Ron leaned forwards, propping his elbows up on the table. " Listen, _buddy_, you think you're so high and mighty, you don't see what damage you're doing."

" Damage?" Draco sneered.

" Half the time you're a cruel bastard to Ginny, the other half you're hitting on her. She's young, her heart's innocent, and she doesn't understand games like yours yet. I know you're a creep, but at least have some respect towards Ginny!"

" I have a lot of respect for Ginny." Draco said, firmly. His voice wavered and he added: "I am _not_ cruel to her!"

" She falls in love with you and then gets her heartbroken by you every day! Don't you see? Ginny's different than other girls, more sensitive to things. She's also really devoted and motherly. You don't know what fragile glass you're stirring here."

" I…" He looked down uncertainly.

" Don't you _dare_ lead her on. I don't know how deep her feelings are for you yet, but I know she's being fooled into it. When she looks at you, she sees you as a bit of a mirror. She can find herself, her own joy, in anyone." Ron shook his head. " And if she can't find any good in a person, she invents it in her mind."

Draco could feel the sharp pain inside, he couldn't even identify it.

" You're killing her. She works so hard to keep you happy here, you know?" Ron kept going. " She's probably the most devoted friend you'll ever find. She's the greatest girl I know, and she's my little sister. I _won't _let some asshole bully himself into her heart. She deserves better."

" I agree." He whispered.

" What?" Ron looked up.

" She deserves better than me." Draco told him, eyes foggy with thought. " That's why I do what I do."

" What do you mean?" Ron shook his head.

Draco sighed. _That's why I do what I do,_ His mind echoed, then continued: _I can't just be mean to her, to shrug her off. I'm just drawn to her, like the idiot I am, and then I panic and move away. It's because I want the best for her._

Ginny walked into the room at that moment, clutching Lavender's leather handbag. " She left in the bathroom after all." She said, merrily, looking at the grave faces of the men at the table. " What happened in here?"

" Nothing." Draco replied, his voice glacier-cold.

Ron stood and took the purse from Ginny. " I'll go get this to Lavender, okay?" Ron said to Ginny. " Good night." He kissed her forehead lightly and added: " Take care of yourself."

Ginny smiled. " You too."

Ron left, giving Draco another wary glance. Draco stood and headed for his room. As he exited, he turned and caught a last glimpse of Ginny as she sat down at the table and picked up her _Witches In Love: Crushed Satin_ novel. Her face was flushed as she read through a series of steamy lines, her lower lip quivering in thought.

He almost wanted to say something, felt the air pungent with need. He kept going to his room though, ripping himself away.

Ginny ran the comb through her hair thoughtfully, paused, and then stared into the mirror at her face. She was trying on her mother's white pearl earrings, both the color of dove wings. She smiled at herself and stood, twirling around in a circle. Her hair followed her, mimicking her orange scarf as it whirled in the air. She stopped but her hair kept going, wrapping around her waist through her pajamas.

She liked her image in the mirror, but her pajamas were forest green, while the earrings called for a white dress. A guilty thought crept into her mind – her mother's wedding dress. She raced to the closet and shrugged her gown off and quickly climbed into the wedding gown. It was a bit loose, because Molly was heavier than Ginny when she was getting wed. The dress stilled smelled faintly of Molly's favorite perfume.

Ginny looked in the mirror again. Her ivory skin, her ember-red hair falling down, rivulets of lava, down her white arms and standing out against the gentle white of the dress. She turned slowly, humming softly to herself.

" It's nice on you."

Ginny spun around and saw that Draco had entered the room. He laughed and added: "That is what you'd want to hear, isn't it?" Before she could reply, he added: " Yeah, you'll have a lucky husband." He laughed again nervously and continued, rockily: " You left this downstairs, thought I'd bring it up." Draco lifted up her _Witches in Love_ book.

She blushed. " It's a silly book, I know, but I love them to death."

He handed it to her. " Good night." He said, quickly, and left.

Ginny turned back to the mirror and spun around slowly, thinking: _You'll have a lucky husband. I'll be the wife to a lucky man…. He didn't say 'to him'… he didn't say 'to him'!… Why am I so upset though? It's not that big of a deal. I should be flattered… well, next is the wedding party… I guess the judgement comes there. I have to decide…_


	22. The Wedding

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Name: LittleMaggie

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Date: January 8, 2003

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Note: **_WARNING! DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER UNLESS YOU READ 21! YOU WILL RUIN THE STORY FOR YOURSELF! DO NOT DO IT ABOVE ALL THINGS! I POSTED 2 CHAPTERS AT ONCE! CHECK TO MAKE SURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_**

Chapter Twenty-Two

The Wedding

Ginny was afire. She was nervous, but Lavender kept assuring her that she looked _ravishing_. Yet Ginny couldn't comprehend the thrill of walking in with Draco, thirty minutes late, a fashionable entrance that will skip the hand-shaking assembly line. She turned and looked at Draco, who had his arm looped through hers, her skin prickling where he touched her. He was dressed sharp, and she had taken her old muslin dress and played around with it, turning it a shimmering blue with a translucent light blue scarf resting around her neck and shoulders.

" They'll eat me." Draco said, semi-seriously. " Just watch. The second we walk in, they'll strip me naked, tie me to a pole, and beat me with their eyes."

" Oh, come on!" Ginny shook her head, chuckling.

They pushed open the heavy doors and walked inside. Draco was right in a way. The room fell into a terrifying silence. Then – a wave of whispers, running through all the tables. Ginny smiled uncertainly and then said: " Draco, you go get us an empty table. I'll go up to Harry and Hermione and tell our congratulations."

Draco nodded and mouthed _thank you_.

She nodded right back and then went up to Harry and Hermione's table. They were a handsome couple, especially Hermione. She was really a pretty girl, but she rarely liked to show it off. Her beauty was like a precious gem in a way – Hermione only flashed it at special occasions. Otherwise it sat in a dark felt box, elegant and magnificent, but not intimidating. Ginny felt like an ugly duckling by her now, this beautiful wedding queen, a gorgeous bride.

" Ginny!" Hermione stood and hugged her tightly. " Oh, it's today, it's today!" She whispered into Ginny's ear.

" I know." Ginny giggled and turned to Harry. " You're taking a really great girl, Harry."

" Don't I know it?" Harry laughed and hugged her as well. " I'm glad you came." Into her ear, he asked: " What's with Draco?"

" I'm sorry if I created a hubbub." Ginny said. " I lost the invitation card – and you know how they don't let you into these restaurants without the invitation – so I had to find it."

" I'm just surprised he's your date." Hermione admitted. " No offense, but last time we talked, he was a scary, depressed creep."

" He's really quite different. We're real mates now." Ginny told her.

" Amazing." Harry shook his head. " Enjoy yourself, then. Sorry you missed the beginning."

" It's alright." Ginny replied. She handed them an envelope. " Here's a bit of a gift." She had given half of her earnings from Draco to them – she had deposited it already into their account, but she had an official card from the bank that told of her doings.

" Thank you so much." Harry and Hermione both cooed, tucking the envelope into the growing pile on the table.

__

There's quite a lot of money coming and going in weddings, Ginny thought. " I'll go sit with my date now. Come by our table later, he's sort of shy now."

" Alright." Hermione laughed. " Draco, shy? Can you picture it?"

Harry shrugged. " If anyone could guilt him into being good, it's Ginny."

Ginny had by now found Draco in the back of the room. He was sitting at a table where nobody else was anywhere near. He looked terrified, like a man standing before a frowning judge and disapproving jury. His expression brightened when he saw her though.

They ate the dinner and the desert, which came in many courses. Finally the dancing began. Ginny didn't even have to sit there and pray for Draco to ask her to dance. The moment the music rang, Draco stood and asked: " Want to dance?"

She was startled, to say the least. " I'm not very good."

" At least I'm good at it. I can cover for you." Draco replied, holding his hand out to her. He knew this would probably the last true night for them to have fun together. His New Year's Resolution was to split away completely. He had to get used to the idea already though.

They moved out onto the dance floor, where a few couples already began to dance. All eyes were at first on the wedding's Main Couple, but these eyes often shifted towards Draco and Ginny. Draco really was a good dancer, after all.

He whispered to her between dances: " Malfoy rule – the men must be good dancers."

Ginny replied in a grin.

They danced, twirling gently and slowly. As the third song ebbed away and the fourth was beginning, Ginny led out onto the balcony, where a few couples were wandering the garden grounds outside the restaurant already. People were kissing in the darkness of the night outside, trying to slip away in secrecy from the party, infused by the romance of the wedding.

Ginny stood outside, the snow falling crisply in her red hair. Draco looked up at the sky, seeing millions of white dots rushing towards him from a black endless stretch. He could feel them settle in his hair and eyelashes.

" What're you thinking about?" Ginny asked him.

He looked at her, surprised. " Oh, just something from when I was little."

" Tell me about it?" She pleaded.

" When I was little, I remember my first sled. I played until it was late at night, and it was snowing just like this. It was probably one of the happiest days of my life." Draco told her softly. "Weird to know that I was ever happy, isn't it?"

She nodded. " Don't get me wrong or anything, but you are pretty gloomy recently. I can't blame you though."

" You make me feel better." He told her, blinking away snowflakes from his eyes.

Ginny's cheeks warmed pleasantly. " It's really just good thoughts in the end. Optimists are always healthier, happier."

" How about people in love with optimists?" He dared.

" I guess they get some of the afterglow." She replied, staring at the falling snow. His hand was creeping up, drawing slightly around her.

" I'm sorry." He told her.

" About what?" She asked, surprised.

" I'm sorry - - just sorry." Draco said. " About anything to come. I… if anything happens, never think that I'm not your friend."

" What do you mean?" Ginny was worried now. " My family won't throw you out, if that's what you mean! And I won't let them keep me away from you!"

" Ginny." He breathed out. It was painful. He struggled. " I…"

She pressed her face into the sleeve of his coat. " I know you never say much about anything of the sort, but I believe you care about me as a friend enough to fight the system too. Friends aren't supposed to… to just split away. Not because of something as silly as this."

Draco said nothing, discouraged suddenly.

" We'll be friends, promise me. Friends above all. Soul mates even?" Ginny suggested.

" Soul mates." He whispered hoarsely. " We're nothing like each other."

" It's more like - - I don't know. We just know each other so well, don't we? More than most other friends know about us." Ginny told him.

He nodded finally. " I guess."

" So you promise?"

He let out a quick breath, like that quick exhale just before letting loose painful tears. Of course, he didn't have much time or patience for tears. Instead, he just felt pained inside. " It's hard to promise." He told her.

" Why?" She asked. " Why's it so difficult?"

Draco looked into her eyes. Her eyes were so open, so honest. _Let's be friends_, she begged. Then Ron's voice, saying threatening things, things that killed Draco inside – _you're bullying your way into her heart._

He immediately shook his head and stepped away from her, moving his fingers up over to his heart momentarily, then he ran his hand through his hair. " You know how sometimes you just have a little string connecting you to someone else?"

" Yes." Ginny answered.

" I promise because of that. No matter how far apart we'll be, it's gonna be there. A string, alright?" He told her. It felt safe enough to say. It wasn't a soul bond, not something so dangerous, something that jumped into border-line love. He couldn't admit to something like that, no matter what the truth would be.

" Alright." She said, grinning. " Alright, a string."

" Let's get inside, it's cold." He told her.

Harry and Hermione moved towards Draco and Ginny's table near the end of the affair. There was something pained about Draco, as if he were hurting. Ginny seemed happy enough, but you could tell there was something a bit awry with her temperament too. There was a sad vibe in her voice as she said: " Oh, hi, Newly Weds!"

Hermione grinned happily, then looked at Draco nervously. " You… you like the wedding?"

He looked up nervously. " Yes." He replied gently.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. " You look sad."

" It's alright - -" Harry said quickly, hoping to stop Hermione before she tempts Draco into some sort of angry outburst.

" Don't worry about me." Draco said testily, then smiled. " Any kids in mind?"

Hermione grinned, genuinely pleased about how civil he was being. " We'd like two."

" Hmm." Draco's pleasant, civil questions that were expected of him had now run out.

" Ginny's really been a good friend to you." Harry said, suddenly.

" Hmm?" Draco murmured murkily, raising his voice higher at the end in question.

" Of course." Harry looked at Ginny.

Ginny motioned to him in a cutting motion at the throat, as in, _Kill the conversation_.

Harry continued, not catching what she was trying to say: " She's really been taking care of you, from the very beginning."

" What do you mean?" Draco asked, nervously.

" She'd come and talk to me, tell me everything, the whole issue."

" What?" Draco blanched.

" I guess I learned we're not so different after all. We both feel we lost different father figures in our lives." Harry said thoughtfully. " Ginny begged me, talked me into raising your pay, giving you a chance."

" So I … it was a pity job?" Draco's voice was rising. He looked at Ginny, feeling bursts of outrage. " So all the things I told you, everything, all the trust I had in you - - you just ran and told Potter! And for what? An exchange job – I have my job, you have YOUR job, right?"

" Draco, no, wait…" Ginny said, quickly.

He cut her off: " Just so Potter could always keep tabs at me, always a step ahead, always watching me, even in my own _home_! And he pities me?" Draco stood, giving Harry an absolutely furious look, then looking at Ginny in utter heartbreak. " I…" He shook his head and stood and walked in a dignified way towards the doorway.

Ginny raced after him but Hermione held her back. Hermione gave Harry a worried expression. "Harry! Good intentions always fail, don't they?"

Ginny's chin quivered. "God, he… he's _furious_."

" Oh, Ginny, don't worry. He'll get over it." Hermione said, quickly.

" No he won't. I've never seen him forgive any grudges." Ginny replied.

Harry wiped his hands over his face nervously. " Jeez! I'm… I'm sorry."

Ginny burst into tears. " I hurt him! I can't believe it… he never did anything to hurt me, not purposely, but I just - - I just…" She was sobbing.

Hermione hugged her.

" I ruined your wedding too. I'm so sorry…" Ginny blubbered, her cheeks wet with tears.

" Listen to me." Hermione said softly. " Love conquers all."

" He doesn't love me." She whimpered. " I'm so stupid, just a stupid _crush_ of mine. I can't believe I was being so obvious out on the balcony, too! No wonder he was so miserable."

Harry sighed. " Here, Lavender's over there. She'll take you to the bathroom to freshen up. Hermione, let's try to occupy the guests. Stop them from talking."

So they worked, Harry and Hermione, always heroes, always trying to patch things up, but Ginny felt as if she herself had ended up slitting the string between her and Draco, something she thought he'd eventually do.


	23. Admittance

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Name: LittleMaggie

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Date: January 8, 2003

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Note: Hmm sorry for that awful cliffhanger, I posted just 12 hours later the chapter 23, so as not to keep you waiting.

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Chapter Twenty-Three

Admittance

When Ginny finally came home, she saw Narcissa was already sleeping, and Molly and Arthur were at the party. She would have a lot of explaining to do. But first she searched for Draco.

Ginny finally found him a horrible mess in his room, after many drinks, weak from his own self-mutilation from the inside. He looked up, seeing her enter the room. He had been crying. Draco had cried for her, cried after what was a long time of drought in his emotions.

" I thought I was in love with you!" He blurted out.

Her stomach fluttered. _He did love me. He still loves me, maybe. Oh God, he loves me._ Immediately, it was a booster shot into her arm. She said: " It's not the way you think."

" Oh, really?" He looked down at the glass in his hand. He could see his reflection in it, a sorry sight.

" Draco, listen to me. When I went to Harry, I told him I was… I was completely charmed by you. That I saw you as good, that I knew you were good." Ginny whispered. " Can't you _see?"_

" I don't believe you." He told her. " You're just saving face now."

" No I'm not. I told him that I saw you as someone else. I told Harry nothing of your – _our_ – conversations, secrets. I just told him that deep inside I knew you deserved a chance."

She sat down beside him and he put his head down in her lap. He really was pretty out of it, she could see the half empty bottle of scotch lying on the floor not far from his bed. She started wiping away the tears on his cheeks and then she hugged him tightly, both of them lying together side by side, in a warm embrace.

She leaned her head towards his neck and whispered: " I love you. I'm so, so sorry."

He met her lips and they kissed passionately, finally, fully.

The next morning, Draco woke up with his head whirling and throbbing as if he had way too much to drink. He tried to concentrate as hard as he could at forgetting the previous evening. He barely knew what happened. He knew he had kissed Ginny at the end. He was doing it again – being an idiot, leading her on. He lay there and made his decision – he would do everything in his power to move away from Ginny. What Harry had told him - that was definitely a good excuse to still remain mad.

He wasn't sure why, but it wasn't what Harry said that made him mad. Perhaps three weeks ago it would have made him furious, but he had finally confronted what was more important to him – Ginny. He had confronted the most important hurdle he had to get over, as well – he had to leave Ginny, as quickly as possible. He knew that she would never understand his reasoning, she thought only with a good heart, and that was the truth to her. He saw catastrophic impacts on her life if she were to choose someone like him and not a man similar to Harry.

It was painful to admit something like that, and especially more so that his time with her was cut short like this. Yet it was the perfect opportunity to split away, using the night before as the reason. That way he could slip off without telling Ginny that he was still very much in love. Love wasn't worth ruining your partner's life over. When you knew you didn't deserve them, it was only a matter of time before you'll feel guilty for the life you brought them. It would be only a matter of time before they'll both reveal their feelings, if he were to stay.

__

I'm not mad. I know I'm not, he thought frantically, turning his back to the door, yanking the covers over his head. _I need to do this, though._

He heard the familiar creak of the floor steps right where his doorway was. " Draco?" Ginny's frightened voice asked. " Draco, it's your mother." She was whispering and her face was pale. 

Draco turned immediately. She watched as a wave of surprise cross his face. It turned into a worried, raised-eyebrows look.

" What's wrong with her?" He asked, his voice hard and strained.

" I…" She turned away, pressing her fingers to her lips in worry. " She passed away over the night. I'm sorry."

Draco jumped up in horror and fled into the hallway and straight to his mother's room. She lay on the bed with the grace on an old but strong British rose, her sunken cheeks devoid of coloring, her lips slightly roughed, as only an elegant woman would do. Her lips had been curved upwards into a smile in her last hour, she had passed quickly in her sleep. Her gray nightgown was covered with a jovial marigold-yellow quilt, a setting as warm and youthful as seeing your first sunset. Her left-hand fingers were wrapped around her wedding band, which she must have removed overnight. It had carved a sad crease in the heart of her palm.

" Mother…" he whispered, a little boy standing at her bedside again, testing the water before treading in. His voice was strangled with years of tears and unspoken words that he suddenly recollected and wished to lay down at her feet.

Dropping to one knee in front of her, he took her hand and held it. The wedding ring slid into his hand and he turned it around, examining the inscription, carved into the gold:

__

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy

He slid it back onto her finger and sat back onto his heels, waves of pain rolling through him like waves, smashing against the rocks, ripping rivulets through the foamy shores and then returning into the sea, exhausted but eager to return. Such were his memories, flooding his mind now.

Ginny hovered in the doorway. " I am so sorry."

He turned to look at her, eyes stricken with grief. " We'll have to arrange funeral services. I'll have to give up my apartment funds."

Ginny sighed. " I suppose you have no way out than to take Harry's apartment."

Draco shook his head. " I suppose life's really screwed me now." He stood, walked past Ginny, and into Lucius's room.

Lucius turned his bleary eyes and stared blankly at his son. Not even a tiny fragment of recollection came up from his brain, the neurons that used to spark instant recognition of business partners he only met once now so dulled that he couldn't tell apart his son from the red-headed nurse.

Draco sat down at his father's bed, feeling pained. " I put it off too long, Dad. So I'll just say it now, before it's too late."

Lucius sighed softly, as if he understood the severity of the situation.

" I love you, Dad." He whispered.

The silence in the room was so intimidating for a moment that even Lucius grew restless, instinctively letting out a low, garbled murmur. Draco took in a sharp breath and continued: "Mother's dead."

He waited for some sort of sign that Lucius understood what he was saying. Lucius's face was utterly blank though.

" Damn it, Dad!" He cried out, blinking back tears. " God-fucking-damn it!" He put his head down on the covers and sobbed, feeling his tears ready to come out for all the times he felt so overcome with frustration, for all the times he wished Lucius were dead instead of suffering endlessly. He felt like an orphan anyhow.

He felt the hair on his head shift as Lucius raised his hand and slowly ran it across the crown of Draco's head. Draco looked up, his heart squeezing at the small act. It was a sure sign that someone out there was listening to what he hoped for.

He stood up and left the room, passing his mother's room, and he stopped at Ginny's.

She was sitting on the bed, her eyes swollen and red from tears as well. " I sent an owl for my dad. He'll be here right away." Ginny said.

" Thank you." He replied tensely.

They stared at each other hardly. She could already see by now that he saw the previous night, their emotional outbursts, as a drunk mistake. As long as she could believe that, it would be easier for her to accept that maybe her feelings were more infatuation than true love. He had to somehow hasten the splitting away though. He knew that he wouldn't be able to see her so upset over him for long.

All he wished to do was hold her hand and tell her not to weep, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, he couldn't bring himself into tugging on the string between them, when he knew it had to be loosened. He suddenly had a lot of restraint to deal with.

Draco packed his bags slowly, staring at all the items he put into the suitcase. Shirt after shirt, all bland and gray, and then a flash of color and spice as his wedding suit appeared in it. He thought about everything that had happened over the past two days.

Narcissa was buried. Not too many Malfoys showed up. Draco hadn't been too close with his family, and most of them had died young anyhow. There was an old woman there that said she was Narcissa's mother. Draco had never met his grandmother, and he felt odd speaking to her. His grandmother told him that Narcissa had left with Lucius and she hadn't seen her daughter since then either, until the owls notified her. When Narcissa's casket had been lowered into the ground, the snow slowly edging away and turning into rain, Narcissa's mother had dropped a single red rose into the grave.

The rain pattered at the casket like knives, slicing through the air with a vicious racket. Draco had felt faint as series of memories flashed through his mind, his art teacher's funeral, now his mother. How many more people would he bury before he'd be lucky enough to pass away? His fingers shook and he closed his eyes, unable to watch the casket disappear forever._ Mother_, he thought painfully. And he hadn't even spoken with her more than twice a day, saying good morning and good night.

Draco continued packing, slowly filling her suitcase.

They had put Lucius into a nursing home. Draco wouldn't be able to care for him, for he would be at work. Thankfully, the nursing home was a walk away from Harry's loft. Draco had begrudgingly taken it, feeling like a charity case. Harry had said that staying after hours a few days would be enough.

Harry, who had always had happy endings. He was married, and just last night she announced she was pregnant from an early test with her wand. Right on the wedding night, she had gone with child. Harry was drunk with joy at the office; perhaps that's why he gave Draco the loft for free.

Harry, always victorious in the end. Ginny would at least be happy in the end. He knew she'd be sad for now, they were both in love with each other, but it was embarrassing and unspoken of. She had all the right to find herself a rich, smart man that would read poetry with her by the fire. Draco could barely provide money, and he knew that her family would probably outcast her and him. That would destroy Ginny's joy.

Draco closed the suitcase, sighing sadly.

He had gone through thousands of different ideas and plans in his mind overnight. Suddenly, an idea struck him. It was a guilty idea, but he let himself accept it. He thought about it, and put aside all other ideas. He was suddenly overcome with his love for Ginny, overcome with the losses he'd gone through. He knew he wouldn't survive if Ginny wouldn't be there to help him out of his pain.

So he acted on his last plan. He went to the painting of Ginny and added something, something crucial and prized to it. Then he laid it onto her desk and waited all day.

By evening, he had gotten no reply from her at all. In fact, she seemed to avoid him, blushing when he exchanged glanced with her. Finally, around ten at night, he walked into the kitchen downstairs and said:

" I'm leaving, then."

" No!" Ginny exclaimed. " You can't!"

" But… you rejected me."

" No I didn't…" She said, then suddenly looked upset. " Oh, Draco, I thought you had gotten over that. I told you, it's just… I can't believe I did what I did, and…"

" Oh." He said, uncomfortably. " So then… _no?_"

" No to what?" Ron asked from the kitchen table.

" I don't know." Ginny said to Ron quickly. " Draco, you have to stay. Ron, tell him to stay."

" He's a man of independence." Ron said softly. " He has the right to go out there and do what he has to do." Ron wanted Draco to leave, and as promptly as possible. It was obvious that Ron didn't exactly adore the Malfoy. Despite that Ron sympathized with the sudden death of Narcissa, and even more so now that Draco had the burden of caring for Lucius and a new household all on his shoulders. Yet there was only so far he could go before he'd cross the line into hurting his own family to help others. Ginny needed to be saved.

" I can't believe you're not on my side with this." Ginny told Ron angrily. She sighed and then shook her head, tears in her eyes. " I thought we were friends, Draco. I thought you'd be able to get past that."

" We are." Draco said hastily. " It's alright about… about the other thing. We can still be friends, maybe talk once in a while by owl."

" If you leave now, Arthur would probably make sure to keep you away." Ginny replied. "You promised me you'd…"

" I promised I'd try, and I did." Draco said. " And I'm tired of it."

She hugged him. " I'll miss you then."

He could feel her heart beating through her shirt rapidly. He whispered into her ear: "Thank you for everything. I'm sorry it had to end this way."

She shrugged him away, crossing her arms. " If you're not mad, then I don't see what you're trying to do, just leaving like this. I thought you cared about my feelings!"

He couldn't answer, didn't even know how to.

" I thought you'd try for more than a day or two! I thought I was important - - that, that my friendship was important to you. I guess you're going to go to your little apartment and have a good laugh?" Ginny exploded.

" I'm sorry." He said lamely. " You wouldn't understand."

" I suppose I should have known that it would be like this."

" I have to go." Draco said hurriedly. " You could have stopped me, but you clearly told me that your answer was no."

" No to what, I'm asking you again?" She exclaimed.

" Stop it with the whole show before your brother. I'm sorry I ever even asked you about it, I don't know what I was thinking." Draco looked away, also looking betrayed inside.

Ginny shook her head. Draco was mumbling nonsensically. What did she say no to? What did he ask her?

" What about the painting?" She asked.

" Keep it." Draco said darkly.

Ginny felt betrayed. He didn't even want a visual reminder of her. He simply wanted nothing of her left in his life, not even a painting to remember her by. He had really and truly just stopped their friendship like a chess game. She didn't think anyone human would be able to do something so cruel. Now she doubted if he ever thought of her as a friend. Ron's words about how Draco could be just toying with her rang through her ears and she wiped an angry tear off her cheek.

Draco shook his head. " Good bye." He walked out the kitchen doorway.

Ginny watched him walk off until she couldn't see him through the curtains of white snow. That's when it hit her, he was finally gone. No kiss to say goodbye. He was still so stiff and embarrassed about how she had sort of taken advantage of him when he was drunk. She had confessed her love to him, and he probably just went along with it because he felt bad for her, because he was drunk and angry and his mind was a haze. He never repeated it when he was sober, it had to be drunken mutterings.

Ginny went into her room, deciding to cut her hair. It was an impulsive decision, but suddenly just standing there in the doorway with it billowing about was enough to drive her mad with fury. She wanted it gone. The waist long curls had to be gone. She couldn't look in the mirror and think that Draco had loved them, painted them so clearly.

She reached for the scissors from the top drawer of her desk and then she saw the painting. Suddenly she realized what Draco had been going on about, and she realized that she had a very damaging misunderstanding with him, after all.

For on the painting he had drawn an engagement ring on her finger, and on it he had written the word _Please._


	24. Epilouge

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Author: LittleMaggie (I think there's a pattern here…)

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Date: January 17, 2003

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Author's Note: Hi everyone! Last chapter! It took me a bloody long time to post this because I was updating a web site of mine. Anyhow, did anyone ever read the goth-horror-comedy comic, "Johnny the Homicidal Maniac"? It's possibly the most brilliant thing I've ever read and suddenly I'm obsessed with it. Now that you are all frightened of me, please read on.

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Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilouge

She stared at the painting for a few seconds, feeling weak inside. Her eyes widened suddenly and she placed it down. Everything went uncertain suddenly. Lines blurred, faces rotated in her mind, events scattered, puzzle pieces fell apart and then came together and then fell apart. She ran a hand through her hair, which she had already half cut with the scissors. Suddenly she felt stupid, incredibly stupid.

Ginny laughed to herself bitterly, a laugh where you didn't smile, simply released the bitter sound. She traced her finger over the ring. When did he want to marry her? When and how? Why was she so stupid as to never check on the canvas lying on her desk?

She looked out the window at the ever-thickening falling snow. It seemed like a bad night to go out and race to his apartment. She couldn't possibly Floo Powder into it, she would probably scare him halfway to death, popping out of the chimney. Or she'd catch him changing for bed. It would be even worse.

Ginny's hands shook but she finished cutting her hair, rapidly, so that it was just barely to her shoulders. She raced around the room nervously, trying to find something to grab hold of, some sort of outfit to throw on.

She finally gave up and yanked on a raincoat, wrapping it around her to hide the nightgown she was wearing. She pulled on socks and her old tennis shoes. Glancing in the mirror, her hair a mess and dressed like a hospital patient, she could only hope that nobody could see her too well through the snow.

Ginny raced down the staircase and through the kitchen, heading for the backdoor. Ron was still sitting at the table though, peeling himself an apple. He looked up and frowned instantly, seeing that she had dressed rapidly.

" Don't tell me you'll actually run after him." Ron sighed.

" You don't understand. He wants me to _marry_ him." Ginny exclaimed.

" _Marry_ you?" He blurted out. " I don't know how long you analyzed what he told you tonight, but let me assure you, he did not propose in _any way_…"

" Oh, Ron, you couldn't understand. I - - you don't have time to find out." She threw the door open. " I have to go after him!"

" Are you crazy?" Ron jumped up and slammed the door shut. " You can't just drag yourself back to him – not after how he _treated_ you!"

" He…" Ginny shook her head. " I'll explain everything later." She pulled on her overcoat and raced out into the snow.

The blinding swirl of white flakes was enough to discourage anyone else to stop, but she felt she had to clear it up right now. She had to tell Draco. They might have been both drunk before, but she would never just throw him away. She would have never done this if she hadn't been so assured that he meant to marry her.

She raced through the snow, Ron screaming her name in the doorway.

" I'm sorry, Ron!" She blinked away snowflakes. " I have to do this for _me_. I can't worry about everyone else if I'm not happy first!"

Draco sipped at the cup of hot coffee in the mug in his hand. It was no substitute for alcohol, but for some reason, he had no wish to taste wine tonight. Smaller things had upset him to the point where he'd drink himself to sleep, but not tonight. Tonight he just wanted to drink coffee and sit up as long as he could to figure things out.

The turning point in his life, he figured. Things were not the way they seemed.

He was sure that Ginny cared for him. Her own propaganda about trying to make it together, to be together as much as possible, to tie themselves to one another, in order to make people accept them as parts of one another and not as separate pieces. Silly talk from a romance-novel infused girl.

She wasn't serious after all. Her brilliant chocolate brown eyes, filled with tears and wonder as they would chat away for long nights together. Her crisply falling red curls. It was just too much to take in all at once. It was an overwhelming thought, this sudden realization of his own place in the world.

How could she have even been serious? She was eighteen, tasting life just a year out of school, there was no way she'd choose to marry so suddenly. She might have wanted a good friend. He believed she did have good intentions. Love wasn't on her list though; she was probably experiencing a light crush, a dizzy-headed feeling that washed away quickly after a series of disappointments. He had provided enough of those.

Crushing scruple ripped at his heart. He couldn't describe the feeling in any way other than that it felt like his heart ripping at the insides of his rib cage with sharp nails, scratching until it sputtered silent, drowning in its own blood. It was a feeling much worse than death, heavier and even more painful.

Nevertheless, a Malfoy didn't commit suicide. A Malfoy would outlast and outlive all the humans in the world, even if the conditions were unbearable. A Malfoy would rather let the conditions kill him than to give up.

He cringed at the chill in the room. It was colder than he could imagine. _How could Potter stand it?_ Immediately, his brain recycled the thought and turned it into: _I hope it was so cold he couldn't sleep at night._

Draco rubbed his fingers together and glanced at the window. The curtains were ruffling lightly. That was pretty unusual. He walked up to the window and pulled the curtains ajar. The window was open – no wonder it was so cold! He rolled his eyes and shut it closed, making sure to be gentle, for the rickety wooden frame barely held the glass.

He stared out the window. Someone was standing in an annoyingly vibrant neon orange coat. He blinked and pressed closer to the window, trying to see through the net of snowflakes outside. There was a girl pacing outside. _Ginny,_ his heart exclaimed, but then he looked closer. Dark wisps of shoulder-length hair bubbled out from beneath the bright hood that covered the woman's face. The hair was too short.

He pulled away from the window, but couldn't tear his eyes away. Something intrigued him. The girl was talking to the doorman but the doorman was shaking his head _no_. Draco knew what the whole deal was over – after 9, no visitors were allowed into the apartment complex. Pity was possibly the only emotion that Draco had left to spare. Pity towards himself and others, towards humanity.

The girl was crying, she was pacing and crying and saying something frantically. The doorman was shaking his head apologetically, and therefore the girl was getting nowhere except perhaps pacing a grave-sized hole in the ground for herself. Draco sighed. He might as well do a good deed, for once.

He buzzed the intercom. " Could you please let my cousin in, Smith? She's waiting outside in the snow."

Smith was the doorman. The crackled reply came: " It's 9:45 sir!"

" This isn't a tea party I'm hosting. Let her up, urgent." Draco hissed.

Smith stepped aside and the girl raced into the stairwell. Draco sighed and sat back on the couch, trying to figure out what he was doing before he got so distracted. _Oh yes, my hot coffee, _he thought, amused, picking it up and taking a luxurious sip. Doing something good did feel fairly nice inside. It was like giving yourself an artificial dose of joy by giving some to others. _Maybe Ginny was onto something_, he rationalized.

He could hear footsteps coming up the staircase. _Christ, does she make a racket though!_ He could hear her – she was on the top floor, his floor. Then, the feverish knocking on her door.

" Lady, I'm not your cousin." Draco said, finally. " Believe it or not." He added under his breath before continuing. " I just wanted to let you in, that's all."

" Draco!" It was Ginny's voice, unmistakable.

" Ginny?" He asked.

She rattled the doorknob. " I'm sorry!" She shouted at the door.

" Shh!" Draco quieted her and opened the door.

There she stood, her red hair cleaved short and so wet it looked brown, her eyelashes glued together so they formed little clusters, like the corners of a star. " Draco, I didn't know! I swear, I…"

He was taken aback, something wasn't registering. The tape in his mind, his memory, was growing fuzzy as it began to rewind slowly. " Ginny, I…"

" Yes! I mean Yes, that was my answer. _Yes_." She sobbed, wrapping her hands around his waist. She pushed her face down into the nook of his arm. " Please, don't be mad."

" I'm not mad." He whispered, stroking her hair. " How could I be mad?"

" You're not?" She looked up, smiling already.

" Well, a little." He laughed. " You should have - - how could you have not known what I was talking about?"

" I didn't see the painting." She told him. " Oh, it was so romantic. You don't even know how shocked I was."

" I'm sorry too then." He told her quickly, his face darkening with a blush. " I didn't… I wasn't sure _how…_ it was just so spontaneous, I didn't even think it over or anything."

" I'm glad you did it." Ginny told him. " My answer would've been yes."

" What about your family?" He asked. " I can't promise you that all the problems would be solved, and I'm not going to run away from them anymore."

" We'll fix everything. You're… you're really something else. Something different in my eyes than I first thought." Ginny confessed, blushing heavily. " I love you. Don't you understand? I love you so much."

He pulled her close and kissed her gently. " I wanted to say this for so long." He breathed. " I love you too. Maybe I'm an idiot, but I really do love you. A Weasley."

She was laughing, feeling light as air as his kisses trailed down her cheek bone, down to her neck, then up to her lips again. " There's still so much to solve." She told him, worriedly. " But I don't care. All it takes is a little push and everything can get better. I know it can. It _will!_"

" We'll just have to wait and see." He told her, smiling. Suddenly, he saddened. " I don't even have a ring. I'm a horrible fiancée already."

" A ring doesn't matter!" She said.

" I don't have any money."

" You have a good job."

" But Harry… I can't face him again!"

" I know you both did some wrong to one another, but in the end, he's willing to forgive. He's been holding his hand out to you for a long time. He's asking you for forgiveness, in his own proud way. He's as proud as you, sometimes." Ginny told him. " He won't say it outright, but… Harry really is sorry. It's crushing him inside."

" I guess time will heal things." Draco said softly. " I'm not ready to be friends with him, but I guess we can tolerate one another."

" That's all I ask for." Ginny kissed him again.

" You're cold." He peeled off her coat and took the blanket off the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders. " You'll freeze to death."

" At least you'll be here." She laughed.

They stared at each other, smiling, the shields and walls broken between them, only a few bricks and crags left to cross over, to pave and smooth with fresh cement. And perhaps the closest cement, the closest bonds and holds, were made by love.

It was a fine winter day, they were both walking through the knee-deep snow, rings glistening on both hands. They had left behind two snow forts and stacks of snowballs, along with a standing army of two snowmen each.

They had thrown snowballs at each other and Ginny had accidentally thrown her ring along with her 'attack missile'. So they spent a good half hour searching the snow for it, but they did find it.

Now they walked hand in hand. He shivered and Ginny wrapped her yellow scarf around him. His blue eyes were merry and his cheeks rosy and aglow. As they walked on, the golden scarf frolicked in the air behind them, and Ginny's red hair rolled through the wind behind them, both twining and dancing together. Hers was shorter, just barely skimming her shoulders, but was now a true sea of fire.

And for once, the colors suited Draco as well.

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Finis


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